


Royal Viridian

by ayokidd



Category: Clexa- relationship - Fandom, The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan, clexa fandom
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, But Mostly Humor, Clexa, Dirty Thoughts, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Film Industry, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, History, Humor, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Rough Sex, Royal Families, Secret Societies, Sex, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Clarke Griffin/Lexa, The Chase, tease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 88,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6602074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayokidd/pseuds/ayokidd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa is an Australian actress cast for her role of Alycia Taylor in the new LGTBQ series Royal Viridian. </p><p>Clarke is the illustrator of the project and they're in pre-production of the show. Indra, the art director of Heda Production Co. makes Clarke attend the preliminary read through, where she finds herself a little unprepared. Clarke is a confident woman who is sure of herself but that all falls to the wayside when Lexa causes her internal wiring to short circuit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot Wire

** Ch.1 Hot Wire **

Clarke is a reserved yet determined woman, she holds herself close not because she doesn’t trust or care to share. It’s because she enjoys observing others—taking them in. "People-watching" gives her inspiration and insight into the world around her. She sees glimpes of who they are in their individual lives, moments that pass by with little mind by many, but to her they were important. Public posturing is abundant around here, she likes real moments and real people but in this city, that's hard to find. Clarke lifts her head when a stranger walks by her and she offers them a chance to be seen. She finds it disheartening when she sees the need, the sheer want in people to just be recognized—to be noticed-- to be reassured of their existence. While Clarke prescribes her own value most people seek it externally, digitally, and desperately. She has never felt the need to be recognized or reassured but she gives it to others in abundance with a smile, a nod, a wave, and most times using the name on a name tag. Clarke believes that art is everywhere as long as time is taken to observe it and human interaction is invaluable, live action art.  
There are always a hundred things that seem to be amiss in a day and only a few that seem right, but if one slows down and looks- like really looks around; right there, in its own little world are things that go unnoticed that are perfect. Like how tragically beautiful a lost balloon looks in the sky, like catching that exact moment a leaf lets go of its home, or how a perfectly content elderly man sits on a bench with no where to go. Her father always told her to open her eyes and so every day she tries to leave them a little wider. The thing that stuck with her most since his passing was that he constantly reminded her to ‘be better than who you were yesterday.’  
  
And so she was.  
  
She is.  
  
Since then she holds herself to her own standard and no one else’s. Clarke is a person that’s rarely impressed or influenced by flattery. It never interested her to be fantastic in someone else’s eye. It only mattered if she was doing good enough for herself.  
  
Pre-production is underway on a new series called Royal Viridian. The last movie she did was very dark, post apocalyptic, and gloomy. She’s more interested in modern film, where it’s more about social interactions that she can relate with more so than science fiction depictions. She can draw anything on paper but having to constantly portray burley men in armor, a hundred scared kids running around in the forest for survival, and murder was something she’s relieved to get away from.  
  
Clarke walks in to the lobby of Trigeda Studios where they were having the first read through for R.V. Usually all the important people attend like the director, main cast members, all head of departments, producers, and financiers. Although Clarke usually doesn’t attend these meetings this far from production, Indra wanted her to work closely with this project. She had already met with the director on several occasions storyboarding his ideas. Clarke knew these would be on display today and wondered why Indra was so determined for her to attend.  
  
“Clarke” a low serious demand beckoned the blonde out of her daze. The place was enchanting.  
  
“Good, you are here. Follow me.” Indra says turning on her heel.  
  
She is wearing a tailored suit that fit her power pose effortlessly. Indra is the type of woman who thrives on duty and progressive development. She is strict, always on schedule, and took nothing less than perfect.  
  
Clarke scurries behind her, hands wriggling around the strap, adjusting her leather bag that held her sketchpads, pencils, watercolor kit, and miscellaneous paper for storyboarding. If Indra needed an idea laid out for a director or production artist she called upon Clarke to whip it up in minutes. Illustrators weren’t usually that involved in every day production but Indra was the best and had her department doing things that most production artists didn’t do.

 

Clarke is the main Illustrator for Heda Production Company and has been their lead conceptual artist for two years now. She used to be a gaffer but ever since Indra saw her sketches lying strewn about after a long day of shooting, she was offered a new position. Indra is the most respected Art Director within the company and also one of the most demanding. It was to her own surprise how fast Clarke would excel in the trial run she gave the blonde and it was then she was given the permanent position of Illustrator. Her job consists of creating storyboards for directors and actualizing concepts envisioned by the production designer and art director. Not only did she adhere to those roles she is often consulted with in many other projects with in the department.  

  
**_  
_**_The first week Indra had Clarke as her ‘second’ she was talking to a very prodigious producer, she wanted him to hire her production company for his next film. Clarke remembers standing at her side; in awe of the set they were currently on. The studio was huge, they had built their very own forest inside with life-like grass, creeks, trees, and even animals were waiting in cages. She was so enamored with the artistic scope of production that she barely heard Indra call her name. Indra asked Clarke to produce the idea that they've been talking about but she clearly wasn’t paying attention. The look Indra delivered her was made mostly of an ebony jaw line and a vein that was too eager to make its presence known. Clarke immediately scrambled for her sketchpad and pulled her pencils out in record time, only to have them bust all over the floor. The blonde was so embarrassed she didn’t look up to see Indra pinch the bridge of her nose and mumble under her breath. Flustered, she quickly fell to her hands and knees grabbing at her pencils that were all too betraying— rolling away from her—how dare they, at a time like this. Clarke was sure she was taking way too much time on the ground, but then she was met with soft brown eyes and wavy hair that rested so kindly on his cheekbones._ _He crouched down, looking at the blonde with a smile, and helped her pick up her things. Indra noticed his reaction and decided to use that to her advantage. She was always observing and using anything to gain an upper hand._ _  
  
“Bellamy, this is Clarke. She is my Illustrator for concept designs in production.”  
  
As they collected the last of her tools, they stood up together locking eyes. He noticed how blue her eyes were and seemed to lose himself.  
  
Clarke on the other hand was completely mortified, nervously opening her sketchbook to a blank page and waited for Indra’s descriptive demand._  
  
_“Nice to meet you, Clarke” He finally said amused watching her fall in to line. He laughed a little knowing Indra’s reputation and seeing the girl fumble under command was intoxicating. He squirmed with twisted imagination, wringing his hands together he waited for her to speak.  
_

_“Clarke, this is Mr. Blake. He is a highly revered producer.”_ _Indra introduced, afraid her pause might cause offense.  
  
He smiles at the introduction and waited for Clarke to acknowledge his greatness.  
  
Clarke looked up, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear along the way, perfectly shy. “Hello Mr. Blake, I…I’m sorry about that. I have never been in a studio like this, it’s stunning.” She recovers.  
  
Indra stepped back and smiled, seeing that Bellamy was completely smitten with her already she wouldn't have to push any further. She named Clarke her second because she proved herself to be beyond useful and she became her right hand. She had a personal assistant for mundane tasks but Clarke had to be that and more on a daily basis. She needed to understand her ideas before she even spoke them. Indra noticed Clarke had a high intuitive sense which needed a bit of discipline but soon grew to an intense degree. Little did she know how intuitive and great the girl would become because of her.  
  
“That is quite alright Clarke, It's very nice to meet you.” Bellamy smiled wide, showing his white teeth that sat elegantly in between his creased cheeks. Clarke couldn’t deny the man was handsome. But something about him influenced her to start a rebellion in the form of an attitude. She had no idea what it was about him but he was arrogant and she could smell trouble. From his constant smile to the squint in his eye, Clarke felt the energy radiating off of him. It all screamed subterfuge and Clarke didn’t like him.   
  
She just nodded in reply, looking up to Indra for help from the thirsty trap of his brown eyes.   
_\---  
_  
_ “Now Clarke, I will need you to pay full attention in there. Listen to everything the director and cast are saying. Even if I don’t need you to sketch anything, I want you to observe him and the cast members in the room. He will be describing his vision in each scene and you will need to try and use their faces in them when you sketch. I know you have already storyboarded with him but please be ready for modification at any moment. After they read through the first episode, I expect you to pin scenes up on the board. This way they all get visual representation of the setting and the overall atmosphere he wants the actors to portray.”

They step into the elevator as Indra continues her instruction. Clarke listens intently but she can’t help but feel the nerves rolling up her legs. She is glad she wore her professional comfy attire today because she is starting to sweat a little. Clarke is wearing navy blue slacks and a white button up short sleeve blouse tucked into her thin tan belt. This was her first project of this kind and she knew that they would be more demanding on her through out production. Filming a T.V. show is a lot different than filming a movie. Movies were locked in and understood from a beginning to an end, conceptually. She would have sketches and storyboards made during development and would be required to illustrate elaborations from them seldom through out production. But this was so hands-on and dynamic; she just wants to do a good job. She nervously pins her wavy hair up into a messy bun as she tried to cool off, a few tendrils fall framing her face.  
  
“I know this will be different for you Clarke but you have proven to be extremely valuable to me. I’ve been wanting to thank you for your hard work and your unwavering willingness to do what I ask.” Indra states, staring straight forward, rigid and as stoic as ever.  
  
Clarke swallows deeply in her throat at what Indra is saying. The woman never thanked anyone, let alone administered compliments. Granted Clarke has done more for this woman than the job description but to be appreciated by her was everything.  
  
“Thank you Indra, that means a lot. I look up to yo—“  
  
“That being said, I expect nothing more than perfection from you in there today. We will be doing a lot of read throughs before production and I want every actor to know the producers and directors desires like they are their own.”  
  
And like that, the moment is gone. Clarke grins at the almost sentiment they shared and replies, “Yes Indra, I will do my best.”  
  
The elevator dings and they arrive on the top floor of the studio office building. The building wasn’t elegant on the outside, all covered in stone and concrete, but the inside was modern and chic. There were 5 floors and on every one, there was a new theme. However different each floor was from another, it some how tied together.  
  
The top floor is made mostly of windows and rooms, the windows allowed light to hit all the movie posters that line the walls. They display every movie/work that was ever filmed here, so it created a sense of grandeur of success. Clarke has never been to this studio. Trigeda Studios was very well known in the industry and most film crew died to work here for any job. Raven wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks when they heard they landed the project. Not only because it will be consistent stream of money, but also because we get to spend most of our time here. Clarke promised to give her a play by play of her day when she got home, more so who is acting in it and who is the hottest.  
  
They walk down the wide hallway passing a gear shaped reception area that opened up to a wide arena. Clarke is impressed at the architecture of this building enjoying the liberty they took with the furniture and décor to emphasize their brand. Two assistants open a conference room with tall double doors, it seems to her that this was their duty for the day so no one hurt themselves trying to enter because these doors are massive, running up all the way to the ceiling—half a foot thick. The handles appear to be half gears that are as large as an arm that form a full gear when closed. The symbol was notoriously known for power and excellence, attaching itself to the Trigeda name.  
  
Clarke edges inside along Indra’s step and observes the room. Surrounding the windowed walls are tables full of food and beverage. The main conference table is long, wooden, and obviously handmade. It stretches through the large room at least fifteen feet long, a solid slice of a trunk of a tree, and the grain is unlike anything Clarke has ever seen before. Each chair looks handcrafted and carved to portray a new element naturally present in the wood. Despite being hand carved, they were retrofitted office chairs that rolled with ease upon command.  
  
She notices the producer and director are already inside drinking coffee with a few other classy looking individuals who have gear pins on their lapels, obviously buzzed about the beginning of production. Development took several months to green light because it was hard to find enough financial backing. But Trigeda Studios caught wind of the pitch and jumped on the opportunity to tackle this modern series along with an interested producer.  
  
“It is a pleasure to be working with you again” Indra shakes the producers hand and steps aside to reveal her secret weapon that is Clarke.  
  
At this moment Clarke realizes why Indra was adamant on bringing her. She delivers a half smile and steps forward to shake his hand. She had no idea he was in on this project; the inkling inside Clarke tells her that her attendance might not all be for the sake of the show.  
  
“Indra, it has been awhile,” he shifts his gaze to the blonde “Too long I would say…” He stands to greet them, extending a hand to Indra and then to Clarke. He is wearing a grey Desmond Merrion hand-tailored three-piece suit. He always dressed well and wasn’t afraid to wear his wealth. The suit he is wearing is worth well over forty large. His hair is composed yet holds a playful bounce around his signature grin.  
  
She grips his hand hard and plays her part, “Nice to be working with you again Mr. Blake.”  
  
She swears she sees hunger behind those eyes as soon as she addresses him. His stare makes her shift weight on her tan high heels clearing her throat. He shakes her hand then as soon as she tries to let go, he lifts her hand up to his lips and lightly presses them on the back of her hand.  
  
“Always a pleasure bellezza bionda”  
  
Indra grins stepping aside to shake the hands of the other higher ups letting Mr. Blake indulge. He holds his lips long on her hand, more than a gentleman should. She keeps her stern gaze upon his browns allowing him to finish. She can’t deny he is flattering when he speaks Italian and when he respects her like some princess. They had become familiar during his film Pike’s Predecessor; where he was all too friendly. Clarke knew Indra used her to get Heda Co. the film and she played along to please her. However, his intentions were apparent when he would show up on set far too often on the days Clarke was needed. His excuse would always be, “I’m hands on in everything I do.”  
  
At this time the cast members walk in causing him to break his ogle but he doesn’t let go of her hand. Clarke turns her head to see whom they hired. To her surprise they were all women. Clarke knew this was a modern T.V. show that was focusing on the LGTBQ community but she had no idea that the cast was mostly women—absolutely gorgeous women. She rests her wait on the back of her heels as she watches the women pile in. Clarke can’t deny that women always affected her more than men. The first is stunning; she looks like someone from an exotic place in the Eastern hemisphere. Unlike anyone she has ever seen, she has elongated features, and high cheekbones—eyes sitting confidently on top of them. Her demeanor is of a serious note; to Clarke she seems rough, like she went through a hard time at one point in her life. Her observations happen within seconds; Clarke is exceptional at reading people to where she could gather all the information she needed about a person to advance in any situation. The next one is just as beautiful; she is shorter than the first but held her own—dangerous in way, like she usually got her way. Her dark brown hair, penetrating deep blue eyes, and her tan skin created a serious package. Clarke finds her contrasting features ultimately attractive but she didn’t really like this one, something about her felt like all façade.  
  
Clarke turns just like everyone else to greet the slew of women but what she didn’t realize is that Mr. Blake is still holding her hand.  
  
That is until the third woman walks in.  
  
Clarke looks down for a brief moment when a warm feeling begins to radiate from her toes, she turns her attention back to the entrance and her eyes go involuntarily wide, her heartbeat slows, and her mouth goes dry. The first thing she notices are her unbelievable green eyes, they are delicate yet determined. As soon as the actress shifts her sight to the blonde, her heart kicks into gear and takes off. Her chestnut hair falls graciously over her left shoulder curling around her slender formed body. Clarke is frozen; breath barely escapes as her eyes make their way down over her resounding cheekbones, to her perfect nose, to her lips—where they halt— _Damn… lips…_ Clarke parts her own to allow more air in her lungs when she notices the actress glance at her hand in Mr. Blake’s raising an eyebrow and smirks before turning to her seat. Clarke notices the lift of her lips into this kind of smile that effortlessly cups the underside of her cheek… _that smile is—_  
  
she then realizes her hand is gripping harshly at Mr. Blake’s like she just fell off balance and quickly regains composure yanking her hand away in total regret. **_Great…_** She thinks to herself. She blushes and questions why she feels so spotlighted all of the sudden. When she looks back up the girl is already sitting down and preoccupied with the script that lies in front of her. She can’t get a read on the girl, her heart sputters at the loss of electricity.  
  
_What the hell was that?_  
  
Clarke evaluates her reaction to the girl. Her palms are sweaty and her heart is beating against her chest like she just had a near death experience. But in this case she would call it a near life experience, for she has never felt this vibe from just being in someone else’s proximity. She has never felt so aroused. Three more girls and then one guy come walking in to complete the arrangement along the tree table. Indra is seated on the other side and has a seat saved for Clarke. She glances at Mr. Blake once under her brow before making her way to the other side of the table. He grinned at her trying to figure her out. The director starts to speak into his ear and while leaning down to listen, his eyes never leave the blonde as she takes her seat. Clarke notices, feeling like the whole room is watching her she bites her lip in nervousness. But she doesn’t care about the whole room; all her energy is flowing to one particular seat.  
  
She sits down in her chair that is conveniently placed right across from green-eyes. She steals a peek toward the girl but swiftly darts her eyes down to her bag when she catches those disarming eyes looking back. _Shit…_ Clarke smiles into a rejuvenated blush and digs her watercolor paper and sketchpad out to begin the meeting. _Get it together Clarke._  
  
Chitchat commences as everyone gets food and drinks while getting comfortable in their seats. Clarke gets her favorite pencil sharpened, her travel watercolor set out and some water and starts sketching the room. The director speaks to each of the suits before he begins the meeting. Once he shakes Mr. Blake’s hand he begins, _  
_  
“Welcome to the first read through of Royal Viridian!” They all applaud and holler with excitement.  
  
“I first want to extend my thanks to Trigeda Studios for catalyzing this beautiful project into production, and most of all I would like to thank Mr. Blake for entrusting me to run the show. For those of you who don’t know, my name is Finn Collins.” Some who knew his reputation clap in this moment. Clarke is already sketching away in her book to warm up; she starts sketching Finn’s flowing hair and his chubby cheeks. He seems too young to be a renowned director but he bleeds pompousness so he must be of caliber. During their meetings together he definitely made sure to show it to the blonde.  
  
“I am personally treating this show as my own child, this will be—“  
  
Clarke zones out feeling an overwhelming desire to look at her again.  
  
_Why am I so nervous?_ _  
  
_ She rolls her shoulders trying to relax and as slowly and as nonchalantly as she can, Clarke turns her head to look across the table at the girl. She finds her looking at Finn with her hand below her chin, fingers resting on the pad of her thumb, occasionally nodding at what he is saying with a slight smile. Her smile never reaches her eyes but she raises the corner of her mouth so lightly like he doesn’t quite impress. This makes Clarke grin with satisfaction as she starts to sketch the girl. Her other hand lay across the script while the one below her chin props up her gaze. Her features are so soft yet sharp enough to turn her pencil in a completely new direction. She doesn’t want to stop looking at the way her skin hugs her body, the light making it glow in certain areas and shadows over others to where all you want to do is reveal what they hide. Clarke feels a shift in the air and turns to find the other actress blasting her with a fierce icy stare. Clarke doesn’t avert her eyes; only she shifts to a blank page and begins sketching the sass right off her face. She isn’t intimidated, in fact she is intrigued on why she has such emotion pouring out of her. When Clarke doesn’t seem affected by her glare, the girl scoffs and turns her gaze back to the director and then steals a glance at green-eyes. Clarke notices, taking note that they might know each other. This causes her lips to purse and her legs to cross subconsciously.  
  
“And now I would like everyone around the table to introduce themselves before we begin.”  
  
Clarke doesn’t notice him wrapping up his speech until green-eyes opens her mouth. She whips away from the fierce one as soon as she hears a voice that hugs her ears in delight.  
  
_Oh my god… that can’t be how she sounds. Fuck_ ** _…_** Clarke turns to focus on her once again.  
  
“My name is Lexa Woods, I am from Australia but moved here to expand my acting career. I am really glad I did because I have been given so many great opportunities and this one by far is one I am most excited about. I will be playing Alycia Taylor.”  
  
_Okay, hello Alycia…_ Clarke’s mouth can’t seem to shut itself as her heart slows back down to a crawling rhythm. She notices her breath slows too, where it feels like she can’t breathe. Tearing away from the trance, she winces down at the table trying to catch her breath. _I should really call my mom after this; there is seriously something wrong with me…_ She chalks it up to some kind of arrhythmia.  
  
Clarke closes her eyes clamping down on her chest in a jerk reaction, noticeably enough where Indra leans forward to look at her.  
  
“Are you alright?” She whispers.  
  
Clarke nods it off, taking a deep breath and returns her attention to the cast introductions. Glancing over Lexa, who is looking at her in concern, she darts her attention elsewhere and starts to sketch the other girl beside her wrapping up her intro.  
  
“—and that’s how I ended up here. I will be playing Carey Adon.”  
  
Clarke manages to miss her real name but sketches her anyway with her screen name below her. Now it was the fierce girl’s turn to speak and her voice matches what Clarke figures it would sound like—sharp, forward, confident and bitchy.  
  
“My name is Costia Villeneuve and I will be playing Siobhan Fraze. I’ve been an actress since I was 4 and am the daughter of Grant and Frida Villeneuve, the all time director and star of the Hollywood classic era. I am here because I wanted to experiment with my sexuality, plain and simple.”  
  
_Wow, flaunt yourself much?_  
  
Clarke sketches her with a bit more caricature essence than she normally does with a tiny quote beneath ‘Hollywood Classic Bisexual Breed’. This makes Clarke laugh to herself, which was more out loud than she would have liked. Looking around she is thankful that no one really noticed…except her.  
  
_Of-fucking-course._

  
She was doing that half smile thing that Clarke realizes is a huge factor in her sudden arrhythmia. _Damn it…_ She averts her eyes back down to her sketch.  
  
She focuses on shading and adding some color with her watercolor set when suddenly it was her turn to speak. Clarke hadn’t realized she would be introducing herself until it was dead silent with Indra nudging her from the left. She looks up and finds all eyes are on her. Clarke isn’t usually afraid to do anything in front of a crowd but her eyes glimmer over the green eyes stuck on her and she chokes.  
  
“He…” she clears her throat “Hello everyone, my name is Clarke Griffin. I am the illustrator and conceptual artist in this project.” Picking herself up she regains confidence; “I have never worked on a T.V. series before but have worked on movies with many great people such as you and cannot wait to begin this journey. I am happy to be a part of the LGTBQ community and I believe this project will create a new standard in entertainment as well as destroy the trope out there that kills off our representation. I’m glad to be a part of something that I’ve looked for in television growing up. I would like to thank Indra and Trigeda Studios for this opportunity.”  
  
Clarke surprises herself with how much she revealed but it felt right. A few claps around the room erupt, including her with that damn smile. Clarke smiles nodding her head as she averts her attention to Indra, purposefully avoiding the verdigris gaze.  
  
“My name is Indra Malone and I am the Art director of this project. I also am family to the LGTBQ community and am proud of how far we have come creating a standard in film and television. I am happy to say that we will push those boundaries in this show. Thanks to Trigeda Studios, Mr. Blake, and Mr. Collins we will be able to show the world what we can do. Now lets work hard and make this pilot into the next hit new series of the year.”  
  
She looks down at Clarke and gives her a smirk; obviously she changed her introduction to pair well with hers and was thankful for it.  
  
During the meeting, Clarke sketches out the introduction scene after the director describes what he wants to open with, she sketches the bars that they will frequent, and the homes that they live in based on the main character’s personality they portray. Then she focuses on sketching each of the cast members as they read their lines. She tries to sketch in the moment their expression, atmosphere, and feeling. How each person makes her feel versus how they portray their character to feel. She learns their names, Anya, Costia, Ontari, Echo, Fox, and Nathan. Mostly Clarke focuses on Alycia **_(is that her name?_** ), who has the most lines so it made it easy to stare and sketch her most often. In this moment, the artist internally thanks Indra for dragging her to this meeting and wishes that it would never end.

At the end of the meeting everyone is cheerful and vibing off of a fantastic first reading. Indra thanks Clarke for her good work and proceeds to approach the suits for a post-meeting meeting. Picking up her things she doesn’t even bother looking up to find green-eyes. Even though she desperately wants to. She figures she would be long gone with her busy actress life and Clarke doesn’t need to feel her heart freak out on her again anytime soon. Clarke always secretly wanted to become an actress but was realistic with her ability, being part of the film crew was as close as she was going to get. Where she is now, is actually way further into her passion than she realized. She loves art and film, so being able to do both was more than she could have dreamed.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she put the last of her supplies in her bag and makes her way around the suits, avoiding Mr. Blake’s stare. Once she exits the room, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders and couldn’t wait to get home to Raven. As she began her gallant steps toward her escape she gets interrupted.  
  
“Hey, the artist Clarke, right?”  
  
The artist Clarke stops dead in her tracks. _That voice…_ _  
  
_ She couldn’t turn herself around but she didn’t need to because in a matter of moments she was by her side. She smells like sweet flowers and a musk she cannot place. The type that you would find after it rains in the middle of a meadow.  
  
“That would be me” Clarke barely gets her voice to project noise but it sounds solid enough to be heard. She stands still, not moving her head or turning her body in greeting.  
  
_What does she want…what could she want…_  
  
“You’re green—I mean Alycia right?” She nearly turns red at revealing her little nickname for the girl.  
  
“Um…No, I’m Lexa but I will be _playing_ Alycia. Nice to meet you.” Lexa moves from the blonde’s side, stepping in front of her with a wide smile that reaches her eyes. She extends her hand expecting it to be shaken.  
  
Clarke doesn’t shake it.  
  
She doesn’t even register that she should be touching the girl right now— embarrassed she has been calling her Alycia in her head this whole time. Her smell and proximity hot-wires her heart again and she cannot seem to focus on moving. Lexa lowers her hand down without a thought and steps closer.  
  
“I saw you sketching in there and am curious to what you drew that made you laugh. May I see?” Her eyes are bright, interested and waiting for Clarke to react.  
  
The blonde looks into those green eyes and decides to mentally kick her own ass into action,  
  
“ Um… yeah sure…” her confidence is wavering and it’s pissing her off.  
  
Not only does this girl make her heart malfunction but she loses all senses of herself. This does not please Clarke; she begins to feign annoyance as she reaches in her bag to grab her sketchbook.  
  
She flips through a few pages, not realizing how many sketches she has of the girl and vehemently finds the sketch of Costia, hoping she hadn’t seen them. Lexa just waits patiently stepping beside the artist again but leans in a lot closer. Lexa laughs lightly at the sketch, reading the caption underneath Costia. The sound of it causes Clarke to jump a little causing her to lean a few inches away. _Mmm, shit…_

“You’re really talented…and funny.” Her voice is low and sultry.

 _Is she trying to sound like that?_  
  
Clarke only hums, glancing at Lexa’s partially unbuttoned blouse, to her collarbone, slowly up her throat and then to those lips.

_Plump…_

Lexa notices her gaze and leans further in, reaching her arm over the artist to unnecessarily touch the image with her fingers. The edge of Lexa’s elbow glides up Clarke’s bicep sending a searing charge to her thighs. Clarke subconsciously bites her lip as her eyes shift to the spot where they’re touching; it burns like dry ice. But that is about the only dry place on her body in this moment.  
  
_oh god oh god oh—_

  
She barely notices Lexa moving to flip the page. Her heart sinks when she sees the next page is of her green eyes in vivid detail and color with the caption ‘Sexy Sage’. Clarke slams the sketchbook shut nearly closing Lexa’s hand within the pages and shoves the book back into her bag.  
  
“Sorry, I have to go.” Clarke tucks her hair behind her ear walking quickly away as fast as she could. She curses when she approaches the elevators forgetting they were on the top floor. Clarke desperately glances behind her to the door labeled stairs but being several floors up she doesn’t dare walk in high heels down five concrete flights. _Shit shit shit…_ _  
  
_ What she wouldn’t give to have her Converse shoes on so she can run far away. This never happens, she’s always on top of herself. But this girl is derailing her thoughts just as she has them. Her body rebelling against every law and lesson she has given it. This girl causes cataclysms inside of her, knocking down walls and uprooting her self-stature. She challenges everything Clarke understood about herself.  
  
A few moments later she sees ankles wrapped in black leather Walter Steigers approach, she keeps her eyes on the floor.

_Fuck…_

As they wait for the elevator doors to open, the blonde feels her heart stabbing at her chest to escape; she winces and puts her hand to her chest as to urge it to calm the fuck down. _Son of a biscuit eater… Christ on a cracker quit killing me damnit…_ ** _._** Living with Raven has definitely increased her use of profanities and she laughs internally at her current mindful monologue.  
  
Lexa notices her in pain, steps closer and lightly places her hand on the artist’s shoulder.  
  
“Clarke, are you okay?”  
  
_Oh for Christ sake, don’t say my name…_ _  
  
_ Clarke perks up at the sound recoiling from the burn of her hand on her shoulder and the pulse between her legs becomes evident,  
  
“Yeah, fine” She basically whimpers.  
  
She doesn’t mean to be so rude but her insides aren’t really cooperating. To manage any sense of self, Clarke turns, strides to the door labeled stairs and busts through without hesitation. She screams in her mouth at how stupid she is being. After reaching the fourth floor, she removes her high heels and proceeds to take her time down the rest of them in hopes Lexa would be long gone by the time she makes it to the first floor. She approaches the doors to the lobby with caution, as she exits she looks out around the lobby and sighs. _  
  
She’s gone; okay… safe to say that was totally fucked.  
  
_Clarke leans against a pillar to put her heels back on gaining her composure—  
  
“You know, I hear using the stairs with a heart condition is frowned upon”

The blonde jumps, nearly losing her balance.

 _For fucks sake!_  
  
Annoyance takes over her disposition; the artist tilts her head to the side to find Lexa leaning her back against the side of the stairwell entrance. After putting her heels on, Clarke turns around crossing her arms and tries to figure this girl out by looking her up and down. She couldn’t get a read on her before, so she tries to find any information through that smug demeanor of hers.  
  
Clarke shakes her head. _The audacity on this one._ _  
_  
“You know nothing about my heart” she throws.  
  
Clarke delivers a comeback with agitated confidence. Finding that she can trick her body into fortitude, she holds on to this newfound umbrage. She sees Lexa’s cheek pull her lips into that dastardly grin she is teaching herself to dislike—an internal battle ensues.  
  
They are but a yard apart committing themselves to a stare off, both girls unsure how to react to the other. Clarke’s eyes flutter from her face to her body; just now noticing her attire. It’s stylish yet casual with her fitted black slacks that stop before her ankles and some white Chanel looking blouse with black trim that bellows out poetically from being tucked into her slim waist. For a moment she wishes it were more fitted to her body.

_Whatever, she isn’t that hot… really sh—_

Lexa has both hands in her pockets as she kicks off the wall wearing a side-smirk. She struts toward the artist in slow motion. Well, to Clarke it was definitely slow motion, the sway of her hips cut through the air, and her knees kick the fabric of her paints outward just to be pulled back in. It drove daggers into Clarke’s core. She notices the girl’s overflowing confidence, which causes her thoughts to shut down yet again leaving only curses to pile up. But she stands her ground, so she can at least pretend she’s got it together.  
  
“We’ll see about that,” she nearly whispers into Clarke’s ear as she brushes by shoulder to shoulder and exits out the front doors.  
  
**_Meadow musk is—_**

Clarke scoffs as she picks up her metaphorical jaw off of the floor. She adjusts her bag on her shoulder with firm force and practically stomps out of the building.  
**_We’ll see my ass!_** _  
  
_ She makes her way to the parking lot digging for her phone from her bag, as she taps on her favorites to call Raven she spots Lexa getting into a car with that Costia girl.  
_  
_ “Knew it…” Clarke says giving a glare in their direction.  
  
“Knew what Griffin, you sound grumpy!” Raven remarks with amusement in her voice.  
  
Clarke shakes her head, “You have no idea. This girl in the cast is…” She doesn’t quite know what she is but it’s nothing Clarke wants to figure out (Or so she tells herself)  
  
“Is what? A total babe and you want to bone her already?” Raven laughs knowing Clarke’s sexually frustrated voice all too well.  
  
The blonde coughs into her phone and shakes her head furiously while unlocking her 59’ Ford F-100. Her dad and her worked on this truck through out her teenage years. It was their little bonding project that they didn’t get to finish. Clarke cherishes the car more than anything for it holds so many memories of him. One-summer years ago Raven finally convinced her to let her work on it so she could experience the car more than she was just letting it sit in the garage. They both worked on it over one summer and finally got it running. Since that summer Raven held a very special, very permanent place in her heart.  
  
“Shut up Ray, like you **_know_** me…” Clarke jests starting her engine.  
  
“Oh but I do, all too well if that summer has any constitution”  
  
Clarke blushes at the thought, “Yeah whatever, so are you home? I need a drink. Care to celebrate?”  
  
“Hell yeah princess, Always am! Where do you want to go?”  
  
Clarke pulls out of her parking space to only stop short at a Mercedes blocking the exit. The blonde looks to the road, which has no traffic what-so-ever because they weren’t even out of the studio grounds yet, and back to the vehicle purposefully in her way.  
  
“What the ** _hell…_** ” She narrows her eyes at the car in fury. The top of the Mercedes begins to fold down revealing its convertible capability. Clarke notices it’s Costia and Lexa sitting in the car blaring her expensive sound system, obviously flaunting her 2016 Mercedes S-class with read leather seats.  
  
**_Hollywood Bitch._**  
  
“What?!” Raven inquires from the other end of the line.  
  
Clarke watches Costia grin as she lowers her sunglasses delivering an obvious wink toward the blonde. She scoffs at the gesture and rolls her eyes.  
  
“This girl Costia is definitely a Hollywood bitch, she is blocking my **_fucking_** exit!”  
  
Clarke shifts her sight to the brunette in the passenger seat, who is staring intently at her. But she doesn’t carry the same attitude, she almost seems sweet sitting there with her arm resting on the edge of the door. Costia narrows her eyes and floors the Merc forward, sending the brunette’s head back into the seat not breaking her smile or eye contact toward the blonde.  
  
“Wow, lady drama already! This shit is going to be fun… Ram into her!” Raven encourages.  
  
“Ugh, meet me at Polis!”

[ _Sage the Gemini- Gas Pedal_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8LUd51IuiA)

  
  
Clarke hangs up the phone and careens forward, easing her foot further and further on the gas pedal—her speed increasing. The road out to the main gate was long and she can see the girls slowing down ahead at a stop sign, clearly just peeling out to antagonize her.  
  
Clarke grabs her Ray Ban aviators from the dash and slides them over the bridge of her nose; these were her favorite because they fit her face perfectly. She ignores the stop sign; flying by the flashy Mercedes with a rev, her hand out of her window wiggling her fingers as she skids out onto the main road. Clarke knew this truck well and isn’t one to back down from a challenge. She is thankful for the upgraded engine Raven convinced her she wouldn’t regret—high praises for Raven in this moment.  
  
Not long after speeding down the road, a familiar white Mercedes advances up beside her truck. Clarke’s blonde hair is flying in the wind—her windows open and she is wearing a defiant smile. Glancing over to see both girls smiling her way, obviously impressed with her antics, she lowers her sunglasses and parrots a wink back at the feisty bitch. Costia shifts her sunglasses down her face in reply, looking at her truck and then to the blonde. She blows a kiss at her before shifting her glasses back up against her face. Clarke steals a look at her passenger and finds her biting her lip towards her with a hooded stare. This makes the artist clench her legs together from the heated wave, crashing down her stomach to her knees. She swears she sees that damn smile inch across her face but as her turn was coming up she slows down and shifts her head forward trying not to smile too wide. The Mercedes flies by with a couple honks. She glances up to road to see a set of hands rise to the sky, fingers wiggling a farewell.  
  
Clarke shakes her head and utters, “fucking women.”

A smile lingers against her fair skinned chin.

  
  
“You’re a god damn disappointment to lesbians everywhere, she was hitting on you and you ran. Literally ran away!” Raven shakes her head knocking back the rest of her beer.  
  
“Yeah well, if that is so then you’re the one to blame.” Clarke signals the bartender for two more shots of whiskey.  
  
“Pff how do you figure?”  
  
“You are the one who got me out of the closet, you are the one who set the standard miss ‘just try it see if you like it’” Clarke laughs and downs the shot with out waiting on Raven, who is wide-eyed and smiling at the memory.  
  
“Oh but you liked it princess. You couldn’t wait for me to come back and work on the truck the next day.” She takes her shot.  
  
“Shut up betch, it was fun and you were relentless. We got so much closer after that summer and I am forever grateful.” She winks at the mechanic only to see her jaw drop.  
  
They’re sitting at the bar, a few drinks in when a group of girls walk through the entrance. Raven sits sideways from the bar with her legs spread toward Clarke. She watches Bay Watch enter the bar.  
  
“Someone give me a shovel because I’m digging what I’m seeing right now… Clarke look.” Raven pushes at her without breaking her gaze.  
  
Clarke turns to see what all the fuss is about and notices Costia at the front of the pack. Rolling her eyes, she turns back to Raven.  
  
“That’s the Hollywood bitch I was telling you about!” She whispers over before glancing back.  
  
She isn’t going to lie; her heart starts to pick up speed as she looks for green-eyes knowing she would probably be with her. Clarke notices a few other cast members with them, then she spots Mr. Blake and Finn walk up from behind like the caboose of the tramp train. Clarke is salty and quickly tucks her head into her beer and hopes he wouldn’t notice her. She isn’t usually this cruel in her thoughts; she let people do their thing regardless of her own principles. She liked when people were wild and different, but today was a wrench thrown. The train heads back toward the VIP section that oversees the bar, reservation only.  
  
“Well there is the whole cast with Mr. Blake and the director Finn Collins.” Clarke states for Raven’s benefit. Disappointment hits her tongue, as she doesn’t see the brunette anywhere. She brushes it off and orders a double for herself, she’s celebrating.  
  
“Shit on my dick Clarke, they are so fucking hot! We get to work with them for six months!” She rubs her palms together as if a bonfire was just lit before her.  
  
“Gross Raven, you never cease to disgust me with your mouth.”  
  
Raven laughs out loud and turns toward her, “You never complained about my mouth when it was all ov—“  
  
Clarke shoves a hand over mouth and flicks her on the forehead with the other.  
  
“You can be quiet now!” she huffs as the bartender grins at their playfulness and sets her double whiskey in front of her.  
  
She sighs at herself at this whole day, takes the whiskey and bathes her lips.  
  
“What has gotten you so huffy and gruffy today Griffin? I’ve never seen you so worked up.” She inches closer propping her elbow on the bar to rest her chin in concern.  
  
As Clarke takes a long drag of her whiskey a familiar bouquet invades her senses, her heart reacts just the way she hates. Raven was going to continue her questioning but words caught in her throat once she sees this stunning creature walk up towards them.  
  
“How’s that heart of yours?” a silky voice drawls in her ear. Blue eyes shoot open, taken aback from Lexa’s sudden proximity she chokes on her whiskey and leans forward to catch the dribble begging to be let out.  
  
Lexa smiles at her affect on the blonde, winks at her friend and continues to walk toward her group in the VIP section.  
  
“God Clarke, are you okay?” Raven turns her head following the mystery brunette. “And who the hell was that?! She is fine AF… like god damn…” Her head is still turned when Clarke looks up after her.  
  
She doesn’t like Raven looking at her like that so she punches her right square in her vagina, “Keep Pauna in your pants Ray!”  
  
Raven scrunches forward grabbing at herself with a muffled Urrmmph.  
  
“ _Jesus_ Clarke, jealous much?” She rubs at her pelvic bone.  
  
“Now I know why you’re in such a fucking rut…”  
  
Clarke groans into her whiskey forcing herself to take it all in one huge gulp.  
  
“That’s her…”  
  
Raven laughs, “I figured as much, what did she say to you?”  
  
“Nothing. She just wants attention, which I refuse to give her. I’m sure Mr. Blake and Finn-tastic over there will do the job.” Clarke glances over to the group and notices Mr. Blake’s arm draped over her shoulders while Finn has her hand in his.

She feels sick.

Bitter and exhausted from her heart’s constant abuse, she stands up. She doesn’t need this shit.  
  
“I’m going to the bathroom, then we are **_leaving_**.” She says dryly, pivoting to head toward the bathroom near the front.  
  
Raven calls out to her, “I guess I’ll grab the tab!” shaking her head she gets the bartenders attention.  
  
Clarke hears her but doesn’t acknowledge because she’s too busy scolding herself for reacting without a thought.

She usually isn’t like this.

Calm and collected was her modus operandi. This—she has no idea what _this_ is. Never has a blanket of ‘what the fuck’ been so thick over her eyes to where she can’t gauge the situation.  
  
Just as she leans down to splash water on her face the door opens,  
  
“Not now Raven…I’ll be right out” Clarke doesn’t open her eyes, she just breathes into the cold water that drips over her lips taking in the cool contrast from her hot skin.  
  
A bundle of paper towels are presented to her, “Thanks” she says curtly drying her face before looking into the mirror. Except what she sees isn’t brown eyes; it isn’t Raven she sees standing next to her.  
  
“What do **_you_** want?” Clarke spits out with disdain more for herself than anything, she can’t stand her involuntary reactions. She feels threatened by her presence.  
  
The green-eyed girl shifts back on her heal and just stares at the blonde for a good minute. “Are you always this way?” She eventually asks with her arms crossed.  
  
Her voice down right sweeps Clarke’s heart off its betraying feet and causes her to swallow deeply. She isn’t always this way, in fact she is never this way and she hates that this Lexa is causing her this much damage.  
  
“You’re hot when you think so hard, you know that?” Lexa steps forward into her personal space. She takes advantage of the way Clarke swallows as her eyes cascade her figure. It’s her game, she knows her effect on women, and she knows that if she tries, she wouldn’t sleep alone that night.  
  
Clarke freezes, not knowing what to say. Even if she did have something to say she doesn’t think it would come out with enough gusto to breech an ear. That meadow must engulfs her senses making her eyes shut. She focuses on standing up right, locking her knees.

She feels Lexa inch closer without invitation, her heat prickling at Clarke’s skin. She suddenly feels self-conscious and doesn’t know what to do with the feeling, for it hasn’t been actualized since her middle school social. The sudden burn of her thighs, the white-hot pang in her chest, and the dryness of her throat exasperates her insides. She resists the feeling yet at the same time she swims in it. This girl probably gets what she wants all the time; she has no sense of humility. She’s so infuriating yet so intoxicating and Clarke wants nothing more than to drink it up.  
  
And at the same time, Clarke wants nothing more than to shove this feeling out of her. She’s stubborn and she doesn’t need this. She’s in control and she’s her own woman.

Her eyes snap open and she shoves Lexa instead, she takes back the moment, backing her into the nearest wall by her hips. This causes a sharp exhale to escape Lexa so harshly that Clarke feels it against her lips. She hesitates for a brief moment staring at petal-parted lips. She forgets her rage and can’t think of anything else other than capturing them. Clarke crashes her mouth into Lexa’s with fervent desperation, pushing her into a bruising kiss. She hears a whimper but it doesn’t resonate, she wants more.

During the kiss, Clarke’s emotional state brittles and she gets angry with herself. Annoyed at the persistence of her green eyes always finding their way past her sanity, she wants to make Lexa feel what she feels inside; she wants to make her malfunction, she wants to…. she wants to…  
  
Fuck, she wants to kiss her.  
  
She ** _is_** kissing her.  
  
Her lips are delicate against Clarke’s forceful ones. She tries to ease her lips from aggression. This works, as Clarke lightens the pressure falling into the rhythm Lexa is urging for. She lets Lexa’s bottom lip in between hers and sucks it against her tongue. Clarke glides her tongue along its edge before pushing it inside of Lexa’s awaiting mouth. After a few long strokes of Clarke’s tongue against her own, Lexa turns her head for a breathy inhale deepening the kiss. Their tongues lap and teeth bite… **_Oh god…_** This time it’s Clarke who whimpers.  
  
_Mmm—wait—what—mm—fuck_

She’s lost in the kiss. All of her anger and every rebelling bone in her body turn to jelly. This feels like home, it feels like this is what she’s meant to be doing.  
  
Their bodies are rocking into each other but neither hand dares to explore. Clarke’s hands stay idle gripping at her hipbones, while Lexa’s are clamping into fists against the tile.

The artist regains her composure and pulls away abruptly; this is crazy.  
  
Flipping the switch back to reality, she bites her own lip in frustration before stepping back and releasing her hips.  
  
“ _There_ … Is that what you wanted?” She breathes heavily, her voice stained with a mixture of confusion, lust and venom.  
  
Lexa hasn’t moved from the wall. She just breathes—lips swollen and parted, wavering ever so slightly. Clarke looks at her, remembering how her hips felt against her palms, remembering the taste of her tongue. Lexa’s olive eyes, now a deep sea lurks across Clarke’s pale skin. The tables have turned and Clarke relishes in the power she feels. The blonde notices the brunette’s chest rising and falling challenging her blouse’s tucked resolve. They stay feet apart just breathing between this stare.

The feeling that surges in her veins is powerful, she struggles to understand it but she knows its overwhelming.  
  
  
“Clarke! The hell! Lets g—“ Raven beckons, storming into the bathroom looking for the grumpy girl. She stops mid-sentence and mid-stride when she sees two ruffled looking women staring at each other with predacious fervor. She looks from Clarke to green-eyes to Clarke again. She isn’t sure if they fucked or fought but she wants to interrogate her best friend immediately so she decides to intervene.  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
Clarke narrows her eyes before hoarsely saying, “Satiating ego”. She was torn between earnest acceptance that this girl could want her and the theory of Lexa’s selfish behavior that gets her what she’s always used to getting. Easier to settle on the latter Clarke straightens up, cerulean piercing moss, and injects a cold “Lets go.”  
  
As soon as she utters those words a defiant polarity intertwines within her. She is satisfied yet disappointed in leaving her this way. Clarke is more conflicted and upset with herself than she is at Lexa. But unwilling to relinquish even the slightest of control she has left to a stranger that instantaneously took it, she shoves the feeling deep down and justifies her actions.

Clarke takes long strides by Raven, through the doors, and deep in the parking lot where she is swallowed by shadows.  
  
“Clarke! Wait up, what the hell happened?” Raven runs close behind her toward the back of the lot where neither of them had parked.  
  
She finds the blonde turned with her hands on her hips, eyes to the sky. The mechanic waits for her friend to calm before approaching. She has known Clarke for a long time and they’ve been through everything together, so she knows when to push and when to let her be. So she waits, leaning against one of the cars they’re in between.  
  
“I have no idea what’s happening to me Ray.” Her voice sounds frail.  
  
“Everything was fine, I was fine until she walks in to that conference room. It all went hot… I…” Clarke turns around, face flush.  
  
“I couldn’t control myself… I can’t control myself around her. It’s like… a force pulling me to her and my resolve, my confidence, my worth floods out of me into her. She drains me and I’m **_so_** angry.”  
  
Raven listens waiting patiently for her to let it all out. She relates to what Clarke was saying because she felt that way once. Her best friend when she was 18 had been this enigma to her. Raven fell in love with her and it was like every fiber of her being was torn from her leaving. But the girl had a boyfriend and their exploration of that love ended when she chose him. That was years ago but yet she still feels that force.  
  
“Everywhere I turned today she was there. It doesn’t matter if I want it Raven, something in me was forcing me to need it. I don’t want to need something that bad.” Clarke was feeling the effects of the whiskey and couldn’t be more vulnerable if she tried. Her eyes fill with saline as she drops her shoulders in defeat.  
  
This was Raven’s cue that she could approach; pushing off the car behind her she scoops under Clarke’s arms and pulls her into a loving embrace. She doesn’t say anything. She just holds her tight like she always does when she’s weak. They have been best friends for 9 years and Raven was the only one she could be completely bare with. Clarke doesn’t need comfort that often but when she does Raven is always there in the exact way she needs.  
  
“What you’re feeling Clarke is synchronicity- a mild smack of destiny perhaps but it’s unavoidable. Do you remember Octavia?” They hold each other, heads on shoulders.  
  
“Of course I remember her, you were so in love with her. But Wh—“  
  
“I felt like everywhere I went she was there, like the day I realized something about her resonated so deep within me the universe kept throwing her at me. It uprooted practically everything I thought was true inside of me and burned a light within that I couldn’t ignore. I let it guide me as she resisted and denied it. I know she felt it too but it’s easier to run from something so involuntary and strong.”  
  
Clarke didn’t want to compare what she experienced today to Raven and Octavia’s relationship. What she experienced today seemed so short lived and trivial compared to that. However she can’t ignore the similarities when Raven describes how she felt. Clarke has never felt this way, she’s never been attached and she’s never wanted anyone so bad that it hurt.  
  
“Raven…” Clarke squeezes her tighter knowing how hard it is for her to talk about it. They were all friends, close friends, before they became more. But it turns out, O was dating a guy at the time but none of it was serious until it was. Raven was devastated when she kept choosing him over her. Eventually she delineated from the group and never seemed to find the time to share. It was messy and handled horribly but she got through it. The pain lessoned everyday, never quite leaving her but it was manageable.  
  
“We got through it didn’t we?” Clarke sways their bodies side to side.  
  
“We did. I just don’t want you to do what Octavia did. She ran and fought so hard against something because she wanted control. I learned early on that letting go is a muscle you have to learn to use. If you strain and fight against life, against the flow of it, you will exhaust yourself into darkness. I fought for so long after she left, to not lose myself but I did anyway. I lost myself despite all the effort I exercised. So I just learned to let it happen.”  
  
Clarke listens to her words as they calm her. One of the reason she loved Raven was because of her multitudinous nature. She was crass, vulgar, kind, reserved, outgoing, intelligent, gentle, stupid, harsh—she was everything all at once and Clarke was in love with her. Not in the way people usually used the term but she wanted all of her. Their love was deeper than kinship and shallower than lovers. However, there was a time where they explored the balance only to find their closeness didn’t lie there. It was just special and they knew that.  
  
They had gone silent for a while, still embracing each other in kind. Clarke’s heartbeat returned to normal and her breath now peaceful.  
  
“Want to do the thing?”  
  
Raven jerked her head up pulling away slightly to look at her; “Really?” excitement filled her voice. “You never want to do it…”  
  
Clarke just smiles at her as Raven’s eyes light up and her grin stretches to her ears. She grabs Clarke’s hand dragging her to her truck before she changes her mind.  
  
-<<-  
  
Her stomach clenches at the sudden change in pace, if only Clarke knew how nervous she really is. Lexa’s back smacks flat against the cold tile of the wall, her lips pulsing against a harsh assault. She can’t stop the tiny whimper that escapes her, hoping the artist didn’t hear it, she gives in to the kiss. She wasn’t expecting this when she noticed the blonde excusing herself to the bathroom. Lexa wasn’t sure why she followed, she just did.  
  
The fire in the blonde fueled the dull flame within her—dull…  
  
until today.  
  
She feels a burn under her skin when Clarke touches her, it ignites her to do things she promised herself she wouldn’t anymore.

 _Ohmygod._ _  
_  
It’s heated and wanted, she wants this, Clarke’s heaving chest pushes against hers and she can’t do anything but clench her fists.

She feels the girl’s tongue slip across her lip and then dip into her mouth.  
  
Lexa aches for it, she wants more but doesn’t dare ask for it. But she deepens the kiss anyway, only to be rewarded with a noise that could bring a king to his knees.

 _Fuck me..._  
  
The whole day was torn from regularity when she caught her sapphire gaze.  
  
And like that, just as hard as she came, she’s gone.  
  
Her skin promptly turns cold once Clarke pulls away, the heat going with her.  
  
Lexa’s breath is heavy, missing the touch already.  
  
_What was that!_ _  
  
_ Her knees are trembling; she wants to push off to taste her again.  
  
She can’t move, everything feels so detached; she can’t seem to catch her breath.  
  
_Come on Lexa, grab her, take her, do it!_

…

Just as Lexa was about to kick from that wall—

“There…is that what you wanted?”

 _… yes._ The brunette’s palms are now seeking refuge against the cold tile; they are sweaty and radiating heat. She wants more but she can’t muster the courage to step forward. She can see it in her eyes; she feels it too.  
  
_Fuck it._

Lexa wants it, she got what she wanted most of the time but this feels different, like she needed it. She wants this more than she dares to admit, the rage against her was like air to desert laden lungs. No one has ever been so challenging and oh, how Lexa loves a good challenge. Pushing up from her heels she straightens up her bent knees and wipes her palms on her pants. She takes a few deep breaths and inches forward—

“Clarke! The hell! Lets g—“ The bathroom door slams open causing her head to twist in reaction, an attractive brunette halts in the door way.

_Did she say Clarke? How does she know her? Is that her girlfriend?_

Lexa looks from the girl in the doorway back to Clarke.

_Must be, the way she looks at her is obvious. They were pretty close at the bar… fuck. What have I gotten myself into?_

“What’s going on?"

_Shit…nothing! We did nothing._

Lexa looks into the blonde’s eyes not sure what she’s going to do or say, so she just waits.

“Satiating ego.”

_What the hell?_

She feels a clenching in her stomach, the venom in her voice is guttural and Lexa is beyond confused as to why she is so angry with her. In conjunction, she starts to feel it in return. Lexa clenches her fist once again and grits her teeth.

“Let’s go.” The blonde calls out a bitter demand to the other girl and is gone before Lexa could protest or inject her newfound frustration.

_Satiating ego…_

Lexa was pissed, like her ego was so disgusting to the blonde. She wants to chase after Clarke, girlfriend or not, she wants to tell her off.

Storming out of the bathroom, through the front doors, she sees Raven running after Clarke into the back of the parking lot. Lexa slows herself and thinks if she should continue with her rampage. She hears Clarke’s stern voice talking and she finds her feet already moving closer. Inching along the building she guiles her way between cars to steal the sound.

“… I can’t control myself around her. It’s like… a force pulling me to her and my resolve, my confidence, my worth floods out of me into her. She drains me and I am so angry.”  
  
The pain in her voice makes Lexa’s heart ache but the words she hears breathes new life into her. She listens intently but can barely make out her voice over her own heartbeat. Clarke’s at a whisper now and she just wants to see her. She looks through the cars and sees her blonde hair glowing in the moonlight, her shadow more attractive than a silhouette should be.

 _She feels it too._ _  
  
_ Just as the elation to that fact flows through her she sees the brunette step into sight and wrap her arms around the blonde in a tight embrace. Clarke sighs into it and holds her in return.

_Shit, that’s not exactly platonic. Definitely girlfriend._

Lexa irradiates the level five attractions she has for this girl and swallows down any hope of survival within it. She takes a few deep breathes and tells herself it was stupid to think she was single and more stupid to think she would fawn like the others. It’s true, Lexa is used to getting what she wanted but she rarely ever got what she needed. Being gay growing up wasn’t hard for her but it wasn’t easy either. It was difficult for her to keep friendships because eventually they would fall for her, even the straight ones. At first it was exactly what she wanted, to feel a girl, to kiss her and to be inside her. It was flattering and fulfilling to have that power. Even though it was fun and satisfying, she felt pressured in to giving what they wanted from her. Eventually she got used to it; she got used to giving them what they all wanted. Everyone told her how lucky she was to get any girl she desired, they would tell her how beautiful she is, how perfect and blessed she is. But Lexa didn’t want to be blessed like this if it meant being treated like a trophy to be won. It made her feel empty inside, she gave into it after awhile. Finding solace in her actions, taking home a new girl practically every night just so she might discover something interesting, something new. They were all the same—  
  
Except this one.

 


	2. Blue Eyed Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot thickens and of course Clexa clash trash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not claim to know anything about the film industry--I research and play off from my fiction whim. So no boohickey on my factoidiums! 
> 
> So Enjoy you sexy hounds.

**Ch.2 Blue Eyed Spy**

 

Clarke jumps into the front seat of her truck while Raven hops into the back standing up with her legs spread leaning against the cab. She bangs the top of the car in excitement.  
  
“Yowwww!” she howls to the moon as Clarke finds the song on her phone. She plugs in her aux and blasts that song as loud as her stereo will go.

[Matt Simons- Catch & Release ( Deepend Remix )](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gbImG50oIc)

She rolls the windows down, pulling out of the parking lot and heads to their favorite Hollywood hill. Raven stretches her arms out to catch the wind under her arms like the wings of a bird on it’s way west. The feeling is so freeing that it allows all her fears and doubts to be left behind where you lose all sense of time. Clarke sticks her arm out the window as she increases speed, letting her hand find waves in the wind. She knows how dangerous it is to drive this fast with Raven standing in the back but it is needed now. This is the only thing that will press that restart button they both seek. It’s been a hard year and they catch each other when the other one falls. Clarke leans back in her seat, barely anyone is on this back road and she revels in the sounds. The rev of her engine against her foot, the low verb of the wind rubbing past steel, the light laughter that escapes her best friend, and the melody that always calms her.  
  
“Hold on Ray!” they approach the incline to the hill and Raven bends to hug the top of the car, holding on the edges under the open windows. Clarke reaches up, grasping her hand as they ascend. She laughs at Raven’s excited yelp. They get to the top in no time and Clarke slows to a stop.  
  
“Ready?!” She sticks her head out of the window, watching Raven stand up and bend her legs. Her mouth is open stretched into a contagious smile.  
  
“Here we go!” Clarke puts the car in neutral, lifting her foot off the break and climbs to sit on the window’s edge with one hand stretched to grasp the wheel as the other is above her head reaching to the sky claiming the freedom they both desperately need to feel.  
  
The car leans forward picking up speed as it falls into the pull of gravity. The weight of the engine lurches them forward, somewhat in a controlled-abandon. Raven closes her eyes hugging the sky. The adrenaline pumps through her like a river in spring, catching patches of frozen earth bringing it under.  
  
Clarke lifts one leg out the window straddling the edge and dismisses the fear of danger, feeling the thrill of it. The hill is tall and long with no cars in sight; her headlights find the dust and dirt in the air—they illuminate like fireflies. Clarke’s mind flashes through her favorite memories: the tire swing on her favorite tree just outside the forest line, her mom staying home from work just to watch dad and her take the kite they all built out (It wasn’t a great success), her dad’s laugh, the first butterfly in her stomach, green-eyes— **_crap…_**

She closes her eyes for a brief moment to center herself before sinking back into the drivers seat and eases her foot onto the brake, slowing them into a stop.  
  
Raven drums on top of the car, “That was fucking incredible Clarke!” She jumps out of the back and climbs into the passenger side window.  
  
Ignoring the new addition to her subconscious’ favorite memory, she laughs. “Ray! You know the door works perfectly fine!” she says amusingly to her friend.  
  
Raven squirms and finally gets situated in the seat, “It was more fun this way.”  
  
They sit there smiling at each other for a beat Raven leans over the middle grabbing Clarke into a hug. “I love you, it’ll be okay. What’s the worst that could happen?”  
  
“Christ almighty Raven, you did ** _not_** just say that…”

She reaches into her glove compartment, searching for something.

“Ay cholita, you and your weird superstitions…” She sighs, watching her find the painted block of wood she made when Raven and her first became friends.

It was a chunk of cedar Clarke picked up after they ran out of gas in the middle of no where, Raven was driving and kept reassuring her that nothing bad was going to happen. Sure enough, it started to rain. When she said it was fine, at least it wasn’t worse. The earth started to shake, like literally an earthquake! Luckily it was just a tremor—but Clarke was taking no chances, she jumps out of the car away from her bad-joo-joo friend and stumbled upon this random chunk of wood, telling her to knock on it so the next thing that happens wouldn’t be their ‘bloody fucking murder.’

“Knock on it Raven!” Clarke is wide-eyed waiting for her friend to comply.

Raven idles just to tease her a bit longer, “You know this is all hobble-dee gook right?”

Clarke furrows her brow and clunks it on Raven’s forehead, “Shut your lint licking mouth Raven, you were basically kissing this when some hot chick rescued us from the side of the road and the sun came out simultaneously.”

“So kiss it! Before I make you…”

After that day, Clarke cherished it like it was her little jinx-catcher; she painted a scene of rain clouds over an earthquake, with a tree in the distance getting struck by lightening. On one side she painted the word Jinx and the other side Raven had carved their initials.

Clarke shoves the jinx-catcher up to Raven’s lips so all she has to do is pucker into it, she pouts to influence her appeaser.

Raven laughs and leans forward to give it a hard kiss, “ ** _There_** , now can we go?!”

The blonde smiles bringing the block to her mouth and kisses it before putting it back into the glove compartment.

“Look, I can’t help it if you’re a bad luck magnet. I have to do what I can to protect mines” Clarke jests.

Raven sighs, a bit of reality hitting her and rubs her leg, “Yeah… I know.”

She pushes against the brake to lift herself into Raven. “It’ll be okay, the surgery will help.” She rubs her back with her hands to compound her assurances. Clarke pulls away to press a light kiss onto her lips and shifts back into her seat.  
  
“Lets go home.”

They are so close that affection comes normally and naturally to them. It’s the type of friendship that most people wish they had, but to them it didn’t come easily. They broke each other a few times before getting here and they would do it again to end up with each other like this. Knowing someone so well with out love’s blindness is like finding true peace. It assuages any discomfort of the tribulations of life, knowing that someone is in it with you without reservation. They caught each other and released each other back into the wild, flying free and back again as they pleased. Love stronger than anything they knew… so far.

 

Two days later it was time for the second read through and Clarke is running late.

“Fuck! Where the hell is it?!”

She can’t find her watercolor set anywhere, she had taken it out to finish up some of her set ideas and lost it somewhere between the joint Monty brought and the noodle war they had in the kitchen after making spaghetti.

“Raven! Wake up you fugly wench! Where is my watercolor set!? I saw you with it last night.”

She can hear a groan coming from across the hall where Raven’s room is.

“Raven Carmen Reyes!” She yells while throwing cushions across the living room digging in the couch.

 ** _Gross…_** She finds old fruit loops, paperclips, an Allen wrench, floss, and her missing headphones… but no watercolor set.

Clarke is running just a few minutes behind but one of the things she hates the most is being late and Indra’s death glare is motivation enough not to screw up. Walking into a room with all eyes on her, thinking of all the reasons why she could be late, watching her as she involuntarily clenches her butt cheeks together in an attempt to walk confidently— yeah, definitely one of her worst nightmares. Not because she cares what they think, but because she is better than what they would think. She is not late often and it upsets her that just that simple act could demote her stature.

“Check in the freezer!” Raven mumbles out remembering that Jasper and her thought it would be heinously hilarious for Clarke to paint ‘Elsa Eyes’ with frozen watercolors. **_Haha…Yup still funny._**

The artist quickly sprints to the freezer with a grunt and flings the door open. A cloud of smog emits but quickly dissipates as Clarke searches over the vodka bottle, peas, pizza rolls, the remote (Raven!), and in the door rack she finds her watercolor set!

**_Gotcha!_ **

She had finished getting ready 45 minutes ago and needed to be there at 9am. It was now 8:52 and it takes her at least 15 minutes to get to the studio. She struts into the entrance of her roommate’s room and throws the cold remote at her half naked body, reminding herself to get back at her more appropriately later. She grabs her brown leather satchel off the table, disregards the curtailing howl from Raven, and sprints out the door.

Clarke woke up extra early this morning because she couldn’t sleep, she was oddly excited for her second read through but she just chalked it up as restless gas in her belly.

She chose to wear her hair down this time in with loose wavy curls pinned back with small braids on both sides. Her eyes were delicately done with a touch of smoke, nothing too heavy as to say ‘I am a diva’ but just enough to say ‘Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me.’ Her outfit was less casual than before, wearing an emerald belly-crop top, the short sleeves split in the middle (color not inspired by anything at all) with a high-waisted white skirt that stopped just above the knee. A sliver of her stomach above her belly button shows when standing but she is fully covered when sitting down. She’s the leanest she has ever been thanks to Indra’s demanding schedule preventing her from her usual eating habits. Accessories on point along with her favorite stiletto heels, Manolo Blahnik BB beige pumps, she is dolled up. These are most expensive thing she owns, granted it was a gift from Mr. Blake after the post-production of Pike’s Predecessor but come on—they are in Hollywood and to have a fancy pair of pumps was paramount. Okay, not exactly paramount to Clarke but he wouldn’t take them back after many of her attempts to leave them on set. So she accepted her fancy footwear and decided to wear them today for no particular reason at all.

 

**9:08**

She pulls into Trigeda studios lucky she got all green lights and didn’t get pulled over for speeding; she had to park near the end this time because she was one of the last ones there. Cursing her Manolos, she runs through the parking lot, through the front doors and into the open elevators where she runs into a familiar face.

“In a hurry Clarke?” A fit dirty blonde with green-hazel eyes asks.

“Hey Niylah, and yes…very.” She takes deep breaths calming herself before checking her phone.

\---  
_  
_**Indra Malone**

**_[8:55am] Where are you?_ **

**_[9:00am] Being late reflects poorly on me and Heda Co. Clarke—Get here, Now._**  
  
\---

“You look gorgeous! Heading to the read through up top?” Niylah says while looking the blonde up and down.

“Thanks” reading the last thing Indra said over again imagining pouring sand in Raven’s bed. “And yes, Indra has me close to this project.” She types a quick response… more like a fib.

**_[9:10am] Car troubles, in the elevator now._ **

“Where are you headed?” Clarke asks putting the phone back in her bag.

**Ding**

“Stopping at the 3rd floor here to work on surface treatments for the set. Have a good meeting Clarke, see you later!” She waves and steps off to the third floor. Niylah is the Key Scenic for Heda Co. and has been for the last four years. She was older than Clarke but they became fast friends when Clarke joined the Art Department.

She straightens herself up, double checks her makeup in the dull reflection in the elevator doors and turns her face side to side until settling on the fact that she looks good.

**Ding**

Stepping out confidently on the 5th floor, she strides past the movie posters, past the reception desk, and finds that the assistants who opened the doors the other day aren’t there. _Oh god… worst! Okay… you can do this._

She shakes her hands to get them ready to grip at the heavy things and takes a deep breath. Hearing voices behind the geared behemoths, she pulls at one of them.

 _Holy balls these are heavy!_ She yanks at it with a huff and as soon as the gap is big enough, she squeezes through. She leans against the other door from the inside just barely snatching her leg out from getting shut on.

**9:14am**

All eyes drift from the scripts on the table to the artist Clarke Griffin. Who is currently back flush against the door, a little redder in the face than she would like, dressed to the tens, forget the nines because she looks fantastic. However, her knees are grubbing and she can’t help but clench her butt cheeks. She procures the sweetest smile she can muster and looks to Indra with an apologetic nod. The look on Mr. Blake’s face was somewhat satisfying to see, but she didn’t dare look to her left where she knows Lexa’s eyes would be.

With out a word Clarke clears her throat and decides to act like she isn’t bothered about the embarrassing entrance what so ever. She has a plan.

She walks her clenched butt cheeks to the front of the room where her old storyboards are hanging and she digs in her bag for the new scenes she worked on all day yesterday. The scenes are very detailed including the actors in the descriptive essence Finn was so passionate about at the last meeting. She uses the extra pins on the wall to post six complete works above the others. To her surprise she didn’t drop a pin or paper as she quickly attempted redemption. After the last scene was posted Finn stood up and inspects her work.

“Ms. Griffin! This is fantastic! Exactly what I was envisioning…” He trails off as he moves to each one with a detailed eye. Clarke puts a thankful hand on his shoulder before making her way next to Indra. By his reaction alone, she knew she was off the hook. She doesn’t want to speak because she would lose the mysterious confident demeanor she was trying to portray. It was working because there were smiles among the suits and Mr. Blake was staring again. Or rather he never stopped.

Clarke takes her seat and sits down with a refrained grin on her face, super satisfied with how this played out. **_Ten points for Griffin-dore!_** She cheers in her head as she imagines Hermione hugging her.

“Well played Griffin. Your sketches saved your ass from your declension day.” Indra says to her without giving her the courtesy of her gaze.

Clarke’s smile widens as she continues getting her supplies out of her bag to be ready for any new ideas, mostly she wants an excuse to look around the room. Not for any particular reason what so ever.

Nope.

Clarke was determined to resist looking over at Lexa for as long as she could, which wasn’t very long because as soon as Finn sat back down with a fulfilled glow Lexa began where they left off.

“I don’t see why I should go Carey, the neighbors and I don’t exactly get along and their parties always seem so composed and secretive.”

The first episode is a throw down introduction to the main characters where you get to see glimpses of their personalities for future episodes to come. Carey was Alycia’s best friend and plays a personal bodyguard for Costia’s character. And Carey is the only reason Alycia will do anything socially extraordinary. Her neighbors were Echo and Ontari who play, Lindsey and Marie in the show. They are a lesbian couple that invites Alycia to one of their parties that they routinely have twice a month. Alycia was a professional instructor, who owns her own company for boating. Her passion is for treasure hunting but she pays the bills by teaching high profile clients to surf and sail.

“Alycia, for once can you just accept an invitation? You’re always out on the water by yourself fending off beach bimbos left and right. Who, may I remind you, I would be happy to take off your hands if you aren’t interested in any of them.”

[Carey chases Alycia around her beach house, as she gets ready for one of her lessons]

“Hear me out Lysh, You have always wondered what those parties are all about. So why not go and figure out yourself! I’ll even go with you. I have been dying to break in my black cloak and Opus Dei mask anyway.”

The tone Anya uses at the end of her line causes the room to boast in laughter.

Meanwhile, Clarke has the end of her pencil gripped tightly between her teeth; her eyes watch Lexa tuck her hair behind her ears while her head leans over the script following along. She watches her slight movements pretending to shuffle around the house as Anya recites her lines. **_Yuck, can you not be so adorable…_** Clarke beams at her as her lips move ghosting the lines Anya is saying next.

She begins to draw Alycia on the beach, imagining her in a tight wet suit pulled down to her waist. She draws a thin bikini top hugging her chest with a surfboard under her right arm. She glances up to get her jaw line correct. Clarke’s tongue sneaks its way out to the side of her mouth as she studies her face. **_Can you just lift your chin—yes, like that…okay…_** She looks down at her drawing and finishes her neckline. Clarke looks up again to work on her collarbones. **_Man… they just stick out just right, perfect… just like—_**

Clarke bites down on the end of the pencil—hard. **_Shit!_**

One: not realizing she was biting the end while looking at Lexa’s chest

Two: she has just been caught

Lexa has her locked in a green-eyed vice; her lips smirk to the side for she has just caught Clarke Griffin checking out her chest. Lexa notices the artist’s cheeks flush with crimson as she yanks her pencil out of her mouth and takes a huge swig of the water bottle that is placed in front of everyone’s chair. **_Gotcha…_**

\---

Clarke squirms in her seat searching for anything to cleanse her dry throat; she reaches for the water bottle above her sketchpad and quickly gulps down two large swigs. She can feel her cheeks burn. **_Slytherin steals those ten points from Griffin-dore and Hermione hugs Ron Weasley instead. Fucking shit!_**

She has an over active imagination, cursing herself under her breath for being so fair skinned. Any blush or blemish is highly noticeable and through out high school everyone knew who she had a crush on before she knew it herself. She would blush anytime they would come near her. It was truly embarrassing but didn’t stop her ability to get the guy in the end. **_So suck on that!_**

 

After a few more read throughs of the last scene, Finn decides to call it a day. He has ideas he wants to get down to the third floor and a couple of meetings to finalize production set up. Production would begin in a few months and he was all too eager to make it pain stakingly perfect.

“Alright everyone, Great… ** _Great_** job today! The characters are coming to life, Alycia good job on the angst. How are you on your workouts?

He uses their character names as to create the effect of it being their real name and encourages using them anytime in the studio to increase reaction times and comfort ability.

“Good, Lincoln has me on a strict diet and workout regimen.” Her soft voice tickles Clarke’s ear-balls.

Clarke whips her head a little too eagerly back at Lexa trying to notice her muscle tone. **_Who is this Lincoln and what regimen of his is he showing you?_**

“Alright well you’re looking good, your training for surf and sail start next week. Study up on technique and terminology so you aren’t completely fish out of water.”

He writes something down in his planner.

“Carey, I want you to be a little sassier with your character. She is someone who breathes confidence and arrogance with a bit of immaturity. You look fit; Lincoln is doing well with you ladies. Your gun training starts in a few days before your surf lessons next week with Alycia. Lindsey, you did well but I want to see more force from you. You’re the uptight partner who doesn’t take shit from anyone. As for everyone else well done and I will see you back here in a few days, we will have the room cleared so we can move around and act out with our bodies too.”

He turns from the cast and starts rambling off some of his ideas with Mr. Blake. Indra doesn’t get up right away as she scribbles some notes down in her journal. She keeps this secret leather bound journal with all her thoughts, ideas, notes, and judgments tucked away between the lines. Clarke has always been interested as to see what she's writing but every time she's gotten a peak, she couldn't understand it.

The meeting lasted a little over two hours and Clarke is starving. She hadn’t had a chance to grab anything to eat or have her coffee before panicking into overdrive this morning. Her eyes skid across the wooded table into Lexa’s direction. She's still seated, lingering on purpose, and to her luck she catches Clarke's glance. But this time Clarke didn’t shy away, she stares right into the moss and Lexa stares right back into the sea. Lexa’s smile spreads infectiously through her cheeks as she bites her bottom lip. Clarke watches her take that lip into her mouth and unconsciously she licks her own lip remembering how she tasted.

“Can I trust you to not be late again, I doubt some pretty drawings will save you next time,” Indra remarks tucking her journal under her arm. Pulled out of her private green room, Clarke blinks. “It is unbecoming and unprofessional Clarke.”

“Uh.. No, no Indra. I will not let it happen again. Any adjustments or assignments you need me to do before the next read through?” She slowly tugs her eyes away from Lexa to look at Indra. She finds Indra looking at her with a smug smile.

“As a matter of fact yes. Mr. Blake requests your attendance at a lunch meeting today. I will require you to accept his invitation and report back to me on anything you’ve learned. And when I say anything, I mean everything. We will have lunch tomorrow to discuss.”

Indra turns on her heel and walks to swim in suits. They're all sharks according to Indra and she doesn’t trust any of them but she submerges herself among them, learning their ways. Clarke’s shoulders slump in reaction to her new ‘assignment.’ These kind of meetings often happened with executives and producers per Indra’s request. She would ask Clarke to find their weaknesses, strengths, and vices, pretty much any small bit of information to get an upper hand some how later down the line. She knew Indra was calculative but something was happening and Clarke knew she was involved now. Despite being an innocent illustrator who attended side meetings for her director, she felt like a spy. The details she would collect were seemingly useless and the meetings mostly consisted of them flirting with her as she pretended to be interested. But Mr. Blake was different. He was a whale, according to Indra, and he kept to himself mostly. Clarke had been on many outings and lunches with Mr. Blake before but they would all end eerily the same. He would kiss her hand, thank her for her company, and walk off into a blacked out Aston Martin, which follows him everywhere he goes. It was all too Tom Ripley for her so she never paid much mind to it and preferred to stay the innocent illustrator. She isn’t a con artist; she is just an artist.  
  
Clarke gets up from her seat and adjusts her skirt. Taking deep breath, she gathers her supplies into her bag and makes her way toward the executives.

“Clarke, you look lovely today.” Mr. Blake brushes off the conversation he was having and steps to intercept her, eyes raking her like leaves.

“I understand you and I have a meeting.” Clarke slices through the compliment—fruit ninja style and stands firm in her Manolos.

“Yes, that is if you accept my invitation. I have reservations at The Ark." He scans her body and smiles down at her shoes.

Clarke is starving and she wouldn’t care if he made reservations at Burger King. She just wanted to eat. “The Ark sounds lovely, I'm very hungry. Would now be a good time?”

“It would be my pleasure Clarke, meet me on the first floor. I just have to wrap up with the financiers real quick.” Mr. Blake gives her a slight bow and extends his arm out toward the doors as to politely guide her to the exit.

Clarke silently complies making sure to hide the roll of her eyes. The doormen are conveniently at their posts again holding the doors open for everyone as they exit. **_Kind of you to show up you Oompa Loompa door wielding—_**

“Draw anymore funny pictures?”

**_Christ!_ **

“Do you enjoy sneaking up on people Lexa?” Clarke holds her hand over her chest to once again make her heart cease its demand.

“No, just you” She smugly says as they walk toward the elevator. This has become some what of a thing.

Clarke smirks but makes sure to wipe it off just as fast as it came. She can’t help but notice the feeling in her stomach, like cocoons hatching baby butterflies in her belly while they walk together. She puts her hand to her stomach to shush them.  
  
“Something wrong with your stomach too? It seems you’re always falling apart around me.” Lexa grins, turning to look at the numbers of the elevator increase to their floor.

Clarke squints her eyes at her, “Yeah, it tends to ache when it senses lack of humility.” She says with attitude. Her make up definitely screaming ‘I’m a Diva’ now.

Green eyes are on her at once, the corners of her eyes wrinkling into that smile.

****

**_[Apollo Brown- Blue Ruby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIQIQyP_lnM) _ **

“I guess I'll have to work on controlling my urges then” She walks forward into the empty elevator, her words trailing behind her.

 ** _Urges?_** Clarke stands still as Anya, Echo, and Ontari walk by her to pile into the elevator as well. **_Pray tell what urges do you speak!—_**

“On or off?” Anya snarks, clearly practicing her sass.

Clarke shifts into action and ambles into the elevator directly in front of Lexa. Her heart hums in satisfaction while her inner thighs start to sweat.

The doors shut and suddenly Clarke takes notice to her surroundings. Stuck in a metal box with four gorgeous woman but only attuned to one. She smells her more prominently than all the others. For some reason her nose chooses to focus it’s olfactory glands on her scent alone. This doesn’t help Clarke in her stability what so ever. She feels the heat coming from behind and the sudden proximity of Lexa inching closer. It’s like she is too close, closer than she should be. Clarke turns her head slightly to find she is correct and Lexa is purposefully standing a breath away. She can feel the hot air tickle her hair.

**_Hot… yes, it is… oh my god… it’s hot._ **

They have only gotten to the third floor and Clarke feels almost too hot to function. Her knees begin to shake, so she quickly tries to remedy the situation. She grabs the hair clip that clings to her bag and lifts her arms to twist her hair into a quick up do. Clarke takes a deep breath at the feeling of the cool air on her neck and she bends one knee to hold her balance. Just as they hit the second floor she feels a nice strong breeze on the nape of her neck. She leans to the side as she lets it relax her.

**_Gosh yes… finally, some reprieve._ **

“Better?”

Clarke’s core clenches (so do her butt cheeks) at the whisper in her ear. **_Hunno, oh man…_**

The breeze Clarke had succumbed to wasn’t of the a/c variety but of one Lexa Woods blowing a soft current through those lips onto her neck.

**_My god._ **

**Ding**

They reach the first floor and everyone piles out.

Except for Clarke.

And soon she realizes except for Lexa too.

Lexa leans in so close that she swears the baby hairs on her neck dance against Lexa’s nose as she inhales. **_Is she smelling me?!_** Clarke straightens up and tries to clear her throat but it comes out more of a scratched moany whine. But before she can hear any smug comment of Lexa’s, Clarke walks out of the elevator. She sees Niylah standing in the middle of the lobby with her phone in hand and she hurdles to her like a life preserver.

“Niylah!” She says probably too desperately. Once she reaches her she grabs her by the arm to support her wobbly knees.

“Gross Clarke, your hands are all sweaty!” She sturdies her stance feeling the weight Clarke puts on her. She puts an arm around her shoulders to support her.  
  
“Are you okay?” she asks in genuine concern.

“Yeah I think I have Closter phobia or something.”

Niylah looks up at a brunette glaring in their direction, “Or closet phobia…” She laughs and looks back down at Clarke catching her breath. “Who is that girl that keeps giving me the evil Jafar glare like I’m the street rat?”

“What?” Clarke turns to find Lexa twist her head toward the front and walk off as soon as she looks over. “Her name is Lexa. And she wasn’t giving you a glare…was she?”

“Uh yeah, did you piss her off or something?"

Clarke let go of Niylah’s arm, “No! I haven’t done **_anything_**!”

Niylah laughs again, “Okay Clarke... Anyways, want to grab some lunch? I just texted Raven and she's coming down from the second floor.”  
  
“She’s here?”

“Yeah, they started working on the special effects of breakable props and collaborating on future possible stunts. They are supposed to bring in the new stunt coordinator in a few days. Niko broke his leg in three places today. Poor guy…”

Clarke frowns at the news, she really likes Niko. “Aw, damn. He really loves his job; he's really fun on set. Is he going to be able to come back to Heda Co.?”

Niylah shook her head shrugging her shoulders, “I heard that they let him go because of it. They got someone younger and apparently better than he is… or was. Gosh, he will be missed.”

She leans in, “But I hear the new one is a hot babe.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Great, like this project needs another one of those.” She jokes but is seriously overloaded with hot gorgeous women lately.

Niylah’s eyes widen a bit as she looks over Clarke’s head but quickly looks back down at Clarke and changes the subject, “So you down for lunch or what?”

“I ca—AHH!!”

Raven sneaks up behind her and grabs her bare sides with very cold hands.  
  
“Raven! You punk ass! My heart seriously cannot take any more of you ridiculous women. I can’t have lunch, got a meeting!” she yells toward them as she walks off in a complete heightened state. She finds the black Aston Martin parked out front and approaches the familiar driver.  
  
“Hello Roan, is Mr. Blake in the car?” Clarke greets the man standing a few feet in front of her. He wasn’t the biggest bodyguard she has seen but he looks limber and quick. His long brown hair is pulled back into a man bun that Clarke thinks doesn’t suit him. He would look better with short hair but he refuses to listen to her hints. She loved challenging Roan, only once did she see a flick of a smile on his lips after teasing him relentlessly one day. But mostly he was a gargoyle, perched on the edge ready to fall on someone’s head if they got too close to Mr. Blake.

“He will be right down Ms. Griffin.” He opens the door to the backseat and allows Clarke to step inside to wait.

 --<<\--

 ** _Mmm lavender and white lily?_** Lexa breathes in as Clarke enters the elevator practically secreting her scent on purpose. She can’t help but step closer to the source. Her heart beats nearly knocking her forward into the back of the blonde. Lexa is so close now that she can smell her shampoo; it’s sweet and silky. But that wasn’t the smell she had caught a whiff of when she walked in. No, the one she smelled was much more savory.

 ** _I wish your hair were up so I can smell you…_** To Lexa’s surprise as soon as she thought that, Clarke whips her hair into a messy clip. Her thighs twitch at the sight of baby hairs sticking to her neck.

**_She's sweating. Mmm._ **

Lexa notices the glisten of her skin begging to be remedied. Again, as if on command she tilts her neck to the side, exposing herself.

**_Yes… that’s it…_ **

Lexa leans in and catches her white lily lavender scent, before realizing it she's blowing on her skin, watching her hair rise in yearning. She takes a deep inhale and gently blows from the base of her neck up to her ear. Clarke makes a tiny sound and leans back ever so slightly, causing Lexa to lift her head to avoid her lips from hitting skin.

She tells herself to make a move. Say ** _something… Anything. She noticed, you have to say something…._**

“Better?”

Lexa watches Clarke stand erect as if stung by a bee and Lexa's hands want to grab her waist to ease her down. **_She seems to always be hot and jumpy, is it me? She probably hates me…_**

**Ding**

**_I hope she doesn’t hate me… No… She doesn’t._ **

**_She can’t…_** _  
_ Her unsure mind jumps from one notion to the next.

Lexa decides to lean in; maybe this is her only chance to memorize that smell. She glides her nose and lips so close to Clarke’s skin,not caring that everyone else had gotten off the elevator except for them and inhales deeply. Its addicting and she can't seem to get enough.

She licks her lips, her eyes closed, and without a thought she begins to lean in to kiss her shoulder. But the smell was gone in an instant causing her to open her eyes only to find Clarke bounding toward a girl in the lobby.

She walks out of the elevator to get a better view and watches. **_Who is that?_**

“Niylah!”

Lexa observes Clarke grab on to the other girl in anxiousness. Her fists clench to her sides and her breathing deepens in unaware jealousy. She squints her eyes trying to see any affection pass between the two, trying to see what kind of competition she's dealing with.

_…And there it is._

She sees Niylah put her arm around Clarke. This makes her blood boil with an over powering urge to hit something. She can’t take her eyes off of them even though the other girl looks right at her. Lexa’s top lip flinches up as she lowers her brow in a primal challenge but just then Clarke turns and looks her way. **_Ahh!_**

Lexa jerks her head away like she wasn’t just eye jabbing the other girl with her green knifey eye balls and storms away toward the front doors. **_Whatever._**

She walks around Mr. Blake’s black Aston Martin and proceeds to cross the street to her car in the parking lot. She didn’t ride with Costia today because she drives like a maniac and their history was getting in the way again. As she was getting into her Forest Green Jeep Rubicon, she sees Clarke getting into Mr. Blake’s car. **_Are you serious! Who doesn’t she know, and whom isn’t she fucking!_** Lexa's mind becomes cruel and assuming. It enrages her ego that she can't seem to have this girl and yet everyone else gets a taste.

Lexa doesn’t know why she's jealous or why it matters. She has no foundation to her claims besides the fact that everyone seems to love Clarke.

_Clarke, Clarke, Clarke… Ugh._

She's just mad at herself because she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Clarke since she slammed her in the bathroom wall at Polis. No girl has ever one-upped her like that and it was like a breath of fresh air after being suffocated all these years in between easy legs. She has needs like every other woman and it’s not like Lexa has a new girl every night. That only happened her first month of fame. Now she barely lets anyone in her bed. Her interests were more profound than the landscape of a woman’s body. She would say that she mastered that already—On to the next triumph. Lexa had always been active and never backed down from an adventure. She prides herself on her intellect and ability to dabble in any subject and hold her own. Her parents always encouraged her with anything she wanted to do. They bought her the best of the best in whatever she decided she wanted to learn. She got the best piano, the best camping gear, the best first edition novels by her favorite authors, she got the best horse, and even the best acting manager in Australia that most people couldn’t get.

And as soon as she got her second major part as a child starlet her parents’ private jet disappeared. They never found the plane and Lexa hasn’t seen her parents in 18 years. She remembers them fondly and accepts the fact that they aren’t ever coming back.

She snaps out of her daze to the sound of her phone ringing.

“Hello Titus” she answers.

“ _Hey! how is my favorite shooting star?”_ Titus is Lexa’s manager/friend/agent. He has been there for her since her parent’s disappearance and she cares for him deeply.

“Just finished with my second read through, sore from weight training and I start surf and sail lessons next week.” Her voice comes off as half excited and half agitated.

“ _Ah, you sound stressed! Hey… I will schedule you a deep tissue massage at the spa. Go to your room and then when you’re ready they will be ready for you downstairs.”_

Lexa sighs and thinks that would actually be nice, “Thanks Titus.”

_“Hey, you command the sky… my little star. Keep it up! I gotta go.” Click._

Titus was always on the move, overbearingly intrusive but he cared for Lexa more than anyone else. Sometimes to a fault but Lexa loved him for it. She started her Jeep and headed back to her apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter cracked me up, oh gosh... sorry if it was too much. I love it. 
> 
> P.S. Lexa is totes a slytherin with her green eye balls and Clarke is such a gryffindor, Duh! And who doesn't want Hermione. I mean we all know Harry was jealous of Ron.


	3. Turning Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on RV: Clarke takes Raven joyriding down a hill and makes her kiss her jinx box (kinky). They are those friends that are so close that it makes other people uncomfortable. It's epic, whatever gag. Few days later Clarkey-poo is running late to a read-through only to find her watercolors in the freezer, she promises to get back at Raven later. Lexa sneaks up on her yet again and proceeds to eat her alive in the elevator, only she doesn't really she just inhales her until she runs away. After seeking refuge in Niylah's company, she departs to have lunch with Beluga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking this story in a multitudinous of ways-- I can't wait to reveal some of my twists and surprises. Stay with me. But trust that Clexa will be center and hot as fuck.
> 
> (p.s. I have misspelled some original versions of names because I wanted to)

** Ch. 3 Turning Tide **

[Obeson- Drugs](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ec_pyajYlm0) 

* * *

The smell is familiar, surrounded by sheets that aren’t hers. She grips them anyway as her skin trickles with static. Her eyes are blurry but she can see that this isn’t her room. She tries to look around—

She can’t…. she can’t breathe; her chest rises and falls shallow along with her internal vibration.  
  
“ohmygod” Clarke can barely hear herself through the clouds in her ears.

Her dull senses take in everything around her, the candles flickering on the nightstand offer a soft glow to her skin, a musk fills her sharp and short inhales, and she relishes in the source of it all—between her legs…giving her everything.

Clarke turns her head against the plum colored pillow, she holds her breath as the warmth tumbling through her core quivers at the edge of release. She doesn’t want this to end; it’s peace. Clarke tries to hold on to this feeling as long as she can—a single tear escapes her resistance.

“ _fuck…”_ she whispers to herself. Her eyes are hooded but she wants to keep her lucidity—it’s fleeting. She wants to hold on to this feeling—it’s beating.

As soon as her skin starts to burn from every pore, she is yanked from the edge. Soft palms slide up her thighs and warm breaths cascade inching along with them. Just as she thought her breath couldn’t be anymore ephemeral, it’s taken completely away. Clarke’s body goes rigid but her mind explodes into viridian. Those eyes bear into her soul like it has come a long way from home only to return. The comfort it gives her washes the burn from her skin replacing it with salvation.

She reaches out but her arms don’t move.  
  
She tries to speak but she can’t.

The weight on her chest pushes her into the bed; she can’t move her head despite her desperate attempt. She has to power- no control. The lucidity she so desperately has been clinging to fades further and further from her grasp.

“Clarke”  
  
_Lexa?..._

“Clarke?”

She struggles against her covert restraints to hold Lexa as she starts to fade. Her fantasy morphs into a nightmare as she slips away. The warmth and salvation evaporate off her skin. Clarke screams but no sound emits. She shakes against her will.

“Clarke!”

“No!” _Not again…_ She feels exposed, naked, and hollow… Another part of her kindred home is crumbling into ruin. The candles that surround her extinguish, leaving the room dark, almost perilous. She's shaking involuntarily now and fear takes over. She feels cold and lost, just like that day.

“ _Dad…”_ She whispers as the shaking riddles her whole body.

“Clarke, wake up!”

Her consciousness snaps the tether from the nocturne of her nightmare. She feels pinned, somehow still trapped. Stuck in a daze she thrashes against it.  
  
“No!”

“Hey, Clarke…shh it’s just me.”

Clarke stops struggling against the embrace hearing a familiar voice. Strong arms hold her together.

“You were dreaming…you’re okay.”

She just nods and relaxes looking around—it’s her room. _It was a dream_

She takes a deep breath— _It was just a ~~dream~~ nightmare._

“I…” Clarke tries to turn over and Raven lets her “Sorry…” The fog ever present in her mind; she still doesn’t feel like herself.

“Por nada mija, you good?” Raven loosens her hold. As soon as she does Clarke pushes off the bed into a sitting position and rubs her face into her hands.

“Yeah” She exhales and falls back into the bed “it was weird...”

“Your dream?” Raven props herself up on her elbow, head resting in her hand.

“Yeah, it was so real” She turns her head to look at her best friend, “What time is it?”

“It’s a little past 9, do you have to be somewhere?”

“Yeah, lunch with Indra.”

Clarke swings her legs so she can sit on the edge of the bed, her back is sweaty and her limbs are sore. Yesterday hums in her head. She remembers going to lunch with Bellamy at The Ark, he ordered the best wine she has ever tasted and she was sure it was the most expensive. This lunch was different than all the others, he was opening up and she started to see a side of him that she actually liked. He wasn’t as pretentious and elite minded as she presumed. Although, he is still those things there was a glimmer of something else. It wasn’t much but it was a fraction more than he had given her, she notices that every time they have lunch he opens up a little more and she realizes that Indra’s plan is working—that his guard was coming down and as soon as Indra thinks it to be enough, she would increase Clarke’s involvement. Things weren’t as what they seemed and she could feel it.

After the long lunch, Mr. Blake ended the date per usual—kiss on the hand, a courteous farewell, and was dropped off near her truck at Trigeda Studios. Her mind was turning and she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling like the seemingly stable land under her feet held a secret of an underground current eating away at its foundation. She wanted to relax her mind so after lunch she stopped by Polis for a drink then she would head home. But she couldn’t remember much after that; it seemed to come in pieces.

She sat on the edge of the bed trying put the pieces together, trying to grasp through the fog but she couldn’t.

“Raven?”

“Hmm” she answers with her eyes still closed.

“Can you…” She turns lifting one leg up on to the bed to face her “what happened last night?”

Raven opens her eyes, props herself up against the headboard and crosses her arms.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

Clarke’s lips scrunch into one of her cheeks, “Not really… I remember going to Polis and the rest is in pieces. I remember dancing for a little bit but didn’t feel like being rubbed up on. I remember drinking whiskey and then someone kept buying me drinks of something but it was good so I didn’t care…” As she went through the night more and more pieces were falling into place. “…You were there?”

Raven smirked a bit, “Yeah, I got there after you texted me some half baked confession of your crush on ‘green-eyes’. Some guy was hovering over you when I arrived and he wouldn’t stop watching you once I sat down. You took a few sips of your drink and started to feel dizzy.” She shakes her head, “Clarke, you shouldn’t accept random drinks from strangers. I’m pretty sure if you had finished that drink you wouldn’t even be awake right now.”

Clarke looks at her with a bit of shock mixed with sadness. “Are you serious?” She moved to lay her head down in Raven’s lap and looks up at the ceiling. She knows things like that happen all the time but she has never been a victim herself. It was just suppose to be a quick pit stop before heading home. She turns abruptly to look at Raven.  
  
“If… If you hadn’t come… Raven…oh my god. I can’t even thi—“

“Then don’t because it didn’t happen. It won’t happen. Clarke, if you ever need to go somewhere alone then call me, I will sit across the bar if you need to be alone. But we should never be out by ourselves, especially in this creep town.” Raven brushes her hair out from her face and gives her an encouraging smile.

“You made it home safe, you're okay” She reassures her.

Clarke lifts her hands over her face, “It wasn’t even night time yet Ray, like it was 3 or 4 o’clock!”

“Creeps don’t have a schedule Clarke, they're everywhere and will exploit anything and everything at anytime.”

Clarke nods and turns to look at the ceiling once more. She isn’t sure what’s scarier, the fact that she was that close to something so horrible happening or the feeling like things are slowly veering into the obscure. She knows things never happen easy or as planned, but Indra has been tense lately and that makes her unsettled. Indra was always calm, and always someone she thinks of when she is feeling uneasy.

“Besides, it seems before you started thrashing about in your sleep you were having a good dream.”

At that Clarke turns to look at her and Raven wiggles her eyebrows down at her.

“What?” She flushes in disbelief, her mouth thin.  

“You were squirming and moaning” Raven says almost too proudly.

Raven smiles at the sudden flush in Clarke's cheeks, “nothing I haven’t heard before Clarke, don’t be so square” She says making an imaginary square with her fingers.

She laughs at Clarke's apparent embarrassment and jumps out of bed, “I’ll make some coffee, you sit tight and rest.”

More than willing to comply, flashes of her dream come flooding back as she lay there stunned by her bed time display. When she remembers whom she was dreaming about she rolls into her bed with a huff, face buried in the pillows. The duality of her dream left her riddled. It was strange to her that it morphed into the desolate feeling of loss. The loss she almost let consume her when her dad died. Strange in the fact that she went from feeling so good to so horrible, strange that it was mixed with pleasure and then pain, and strange because she really didn’t like that it juxtaposed Lexa and her dad. She shudders at the thought and recoils into her self. _Why Clarke?_ She asks herself why her mind puts these things in her head. After calming herself down she tries to rationalize it.

Raven returns with coffee and sees Clarke’s face contorted.

“Hey, what is it?” she sits down next to her and attempts to hand her coffee just the way she likes it, a touch of hazelnut creamer and a spoon full of natural brown sugar.

Clarke looks at Raven, contemplating telling her about her dream while she pulls herself from her sheets to grab the mug.

“I’m just thinking about my dream,” she says blowing into the cup bringing her favorite morning aroma through her senses.

Raven scoots back to sit beside her against the headboard, “Tell me about it?”

“I feel really weird about it… you sure you want to hear it?” Clarke raises her brows.

Her best friend just nods and takes a sip from her mug.

“Okay but honestly Raven, It weirds me out so try and not make fun of me…” She looks for compliance before she continues, “So it starts off in this room that isn’t mine. I can’t really grasp myself, I feel foggy and full of white noise. I try to look around but all my senses were dull and I was short of breath. I soon realize that someone was going down on me and it felt really good...”

Raven smiles into her mug but stifles any comment or further reaction so she would continue.

“…I am like really close until she starts to climb up my body and that's when I see that it…it's Lexa. She was looking up at me and the way she looked at me was…”

Clarke takes a deep inhale, remembering the feeling it gave her to be looked at like that.

“anyway, I couldn’t move… it felt like some great resistance was holding me down, I couldn’t see it but I felt it. There was a low hum in my ears and I couldn’t move. I was so scared because I tried reaching out to her but she was fading away. The feeling I had was of such emptiness, it went from warm to cold in seconds… I felt like I had lost everything like when my dad died and…”

Clarke was thinking about the feeling so hard that she started to feel that way again, tears build up in her eyes and she can't hold it down. The dream dug up those feelings and they're too fresh to stomp out. She sucks in a sharp breath and holds it in.

Raven waits patiently, knowing she isn’t finished.  
  
“It was so odd Raven, to have a sex dream turn into a nightmare of my dad. Like how fucked up is that?!” She implores with a whispered sob.

Raven sits her mug on the nightstand and positions herself behind Clarke so that she sat between her legs and could lean back into her body. “Shhh Clarke… it’s okay. It’s not _that_ fucked up. Honestly, dreams are the thing that's messed up, not the dreamer…it just means something else—nothing literal.”

Clarke holds her coffee up to her face—hiding—tears falling. Raven wraps her arms around her and takes the mug from her harsh grip setting her mug next to hers.

“Once I had a dream of my aunt Rosa and she morphed into this stripper I had a crush on. Clarke, it was weird but it was just converging my feelings from two separate parts of my reality. I wanted my aunt Rosa to like me so bad when I was growing up but she didn’t give me the time of day. And the stripper brushed me off so many times, I wanted her to like me so bad as well. So sometimes it’s deeper than the literal…”

Clarke shudders at the thought of her dream again; Raven’s dream only made her feel weirder.

Raven chuckles a little at her reaction because she had the same one when she awoke but dreams are so complex she got over it pretty quick, “Clarke…can I tell you what I think?"

She nods and scoots further back into the comfort of her best friend.

“I think you're afraid of loss. You’re scared to let anyone in because you think that losing anyone else would break you. When your dad died you were completely lost and broken that it took months for you to find yourself again. I had to just wait because you shut me out. I understood but you haven’t let anyone new into your life since. And I think that Lexa is someone you can truly care about and you're afraid of what that might mean. It opens you up to the pain of loss and the intensity in which you are drawn to her frightens you; So much that I think you convince yourself that it’s better to not have than to have and lose it.”

She increases her hold on Clarke and leans forward to see if she's listening. The blonde nods as she calms to her words.

“Anxiety will draw out the strangest things from the caverns of our minds and I think you're still fighting those demons that emerged from your dads death. You witnessed something horrible and you couldn’t stop it. And it wasn’t your fault, I know you think it is. You can’t hide from the world forever Clarke, you can’t be an observer forever. You need to live.”

Clarke slumps for a beat before lifting herself out of Raven’s embrace and turns herself so she's facing her.  
  
“That’s how I’ve been surviving Raven, It’s been enough. It will be enough. I only need you.”

Raven smiles, “Despite how great that is, I can't be the only one. I can’t handle that amount of pressure. I love you but I can’t be the only love in your life.”

Clarke knows this but she doesn’t want to risk it. She has valiantly protected herself all these years by watching and learning vicariously through others. She feels hardened because of it and if she lets someone new into her armored world, a single blow could relinquish all her power and progress.

“I know…” She feels defeated but not so conflicted about her dream anymore. Raven's right-she's afraid of loss and that hollow feeling. This just shows her how much she would do to avoid that feeling again. Clarke scoots to get off the bed for the solace of her bathroom.

Raven grimaces at her best friend’s internal struggle and reaches out, “Clarke, I will be everything you want me to be for as long as you need… but will you try to let people in; let her in?”

The rough palm that lay on her arm brings little comfort to her but she pauses at her words. It was selfish of her to ask Raven to be the only one to take on her burdens, dreams, hopes, and fears but she trusts her more than her own mother. She loves her more than she has loved anyone and she knows she would never hurt her. Her mother hasn’t been a part of her life since Clarke left, she didn’t understand her. Without responding she strides into the bathroom to get ready for her lunch with Indra.

 

Indra was already sitting at their usual table in the back. It was a small local restaurant in Korea town. Indra knew the owner very well from her childhood and that’s all Clarke knew about the place. It’s a little before noon when Clarke arrived for lunch. She approaches Indra with a slow pace, not eager to be prodded and picked for information today. Ready to get this over with, she slumps down into her seat. Indra didn’t acknowledge her, her eyes glued to her journal as she writes. They sit in silence for a few minutes before the waiter comes by to hand Clarke her usual, iced tea and Kim chi. She doesn’t feel like eating so she just takes a few sips from her drink.

 “So Clarke, care to tell me what's bothering you?” She asks without lifting her pen from paper.

The artist sits across from her statuesque boss while shifting in her seat. _How does she always do that?_

“You know, it’s a little creepy how you can do that” She comments.

Her comment elicits a smirk but her focus is still on her journal. Clarke attempts to deflect with a question but Indra sits in the silence, completely content—waiting.

Clarke swallows looking around before scooting closer to confess, “I'm a bit uneasy about… what I'm doing. I know that the information I'm giving you is of some importance but I can’t help but feel the tide shifting.” Her voice is soft but steady enough for Indra to hear her concern.

Indra finishes her entry, quietly shuts her journal and folds her hands on top. A smile is now evident, Clarke almost feels like its one of approval, that she isn’t wrong in her assumption.

“So tell me about your lunch with Mr. Blake.” Her voice rang cool and cavalier.

 _Oh we're just going to jump right in…okay._ Clarke clears her throat, “It started off normal as ever and I waited in his car at Trigeda Studios. He arrived ten minutes later and accompanied me in the backseat. He asked me how I was doing after he complimented me on what I was wearing. When I asked him how he was doing, he looked out the window and smiled. He said he will be doing better soon but for now was stressed. I thought it a nice honest answer from the usual nod of ‘good’”  
  
Indra opens her journal back up at this point and was jotting something down.

“Um, we arrived at The Ark after sitting in comfortable silence. We sat down at a table and he ordered wine—“

“What was his demeanor?” Indra asks without looking up.

“To me he seemed anxious but there was a gleam of excitement to his actions. He was interested in what I thought of the wine and told me a story about a bottle of wine he found in the ocean. He said it was the best wine he had tasted, having been resting in the cold ocean bed for centuries. I asked him how he found the wine and how it could still be drinkable; he leaned in and told me he likes to dive at night sometimes, it clears his head. He said he has found many interesting things in places most people won’t go. That not all is as it seems. He transitioned into offering me a private viewing of one of his collections during the production party at the end of the month.”  
  
“Did he mention anything else about diving or the ocean?”

“Um, he mentioned that he liked this project because of the main character. Her passion is similar to his. He likes history and the dangers of pirates… oh! One of his favorite books is Robinson Crusoe. He mentioned the character a few times in comparison to himself.”

“Good, continue…” She wrote some more.

“So, he asked me a lot of questions about my interests and complimented me numerous times on my eyes. He was more forward than other times and he seemed more relaxed around me…”

Clarke waited for Indra to say anything but she just kept writing so she continued to narrate her time, even with the mundane details of what they ordered, how it tasted, and how he carried himself.

“…and Roan would come by every so often to whisper something in his ear, I think they were updates, and then he would walk off again. After dessert he thanked me for my time and escorted me back to the car. He told me he wouldn’t be able to see me until the party at his house at the end of the month. I asked him why and he said business.”

Indra looks up with an inquisitive brow, “He won’t be attending the rest of the meetings?”

Clarke shrugs her shoulders, “I’m not sure, but it sounded like he wouldn’t be in town.”

“What were his exact words when he told you?” A stern inflection is in her voice.

“Um… he said, ‘I’m glad we had lunch today. Unfortunately, the next time we will see each other will be at the end of the month at the production celebration. I’ll think of your eyes when I see the ocean.’ Then I asked him where he was going and he answered, ‘A little business with some old friends.”

“I see…” Indra wrote some things down and then added notes on the margin before closing her journal.

Thankful that her lunch—interrogation—debriefs or whatever it was is almost over, Clarke takes another sip of her tea and waits for Indra to speak.

“Clarke, I know you have many questions as to why I request this information and why I encourage you to attend meetings for me. Just know it will all be known soon. You're a vital part of my team and I trust you. You aren’t wrong about the tide but know that I will always keep you safe.”  
  
She stares at her boss for a bit before forcing a smile. _Keep me safe?_ Clarke starts to wonder if she's in any danger or if she could be.

“Am I in danger Indra?”

Indra smiles and shakes her head, “No not at all, I'm just letting you know that you aren’t doing anything wrong or illegal.”

This doesn’t ease Clarke’s doubts but it does encourage her to ask a question, “May I ask you something?”

Indra nods.

“What language are you writing in?”

Indra smirks at her, knowing that she has stolen a peek once or twice at what she's writing but never attempted to keep her from viewing. She knows no one is able to read her journal except her and a few other people that she trusts with her life.

“It isn’t anything you would know.”

“Does it have a name? I'm just curious, I mean if you trust me I could know right?”

Clarke was interested because it was nothing like she has seen before and once she tried to pronounce a few words, it sounded ancient.

“Clarke, it is none of your concern.” Indra starts packing up; “I will see you at the read through tomorrow. You will be meeting with the Monty during the meeting and drawing up his ideas for the cast. Bring markers instead of your watercolor set.”

She takes in a deep sigh, “Alright, anything else Indra?”

Clarke gets up at the same time as her boss and follows her out of the restaurant.

“Don’t think too much Clarke, this is business. It is always wise to keep a close eye on things. Just always have your mind about you and do not trust so easily. You are a very bright woman; keep your eyes open. As always, tell no one of the content of our meetings Clarke.” Indra places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes before walking off.

“Well that wasn’t cryptic at all…” Clarke mumbles to herself before she heads to her truck a few blocks in the opposite direction. ‘ _Keep my eyes open’ ‘you’ll keep me safe’ ‘it’s not illegal’_ While she walks to her car, all these assurances seem to paint a new picture for her. This is the turn of the tide and she knows better than to take words at face value. These executives she has lunches with aren’t ignorant, they are very wealthy, very powerful people who she knows have hands in a lot of different kinds of business, some would say dirty. I mean, who doesn’t in this industry, in this city.

She gets to her car and notices something underneath her windshield wipers; it’s a card with a single gear emblem in the middle. She flips it over and it’s blank. The card stock is thick and the emblem is in elegant gold ink— _expensive_ she thinks. Clarke looks around her and doesn’t see anyone. She's a little spooked but doesn’t let it get to her. She puts the card in her purse and starts her engine. She looks around her one more time before setting her course to home. 

 

 

_[Vindata- All I really need (ft. Kenzie May)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s8Et5JuLUs8) _

_The next day_

Raven wakes early, starts the coffee and commits to her morning stretches. She's a mechanical person, one who discovers how individual pieces can function and how they can be put together for a greater purpose. This skill is not only limited to metal but to flesh and bone. She understands how people work, human nature and the brutality of truth. Raven takes little refuge in others, willing to do it all on her own. Until she met her stubborn equal who is now her roommate, love, best friend, her only family. Her once rigid exterior weathered by the world lies now more admissible to the elements. They gave each other something they both desperately needed to survive; where one softened the other hardened. Eight years ago she laid her heart open to the flame, to love. Hoping to weld it into armor only to rouse scarred from the ashes— never fully healed. The anger she feels motivates her to be better, work harder, and to protect herself. It was a lesson she branded on her skin below her left breast, ‘ _infirmitate mea.’_ She had many tattoos, covering her arms and her back, but this one healed more true than the others.

She stretches every morning to increase her flexibility; her routine began after her first surgery when she was sixteen. Her parents were less than role model and would often forget to stock the fridge or pay the rent. She wandered the streets most nights deciding that the open air and concrete bed fared better than the stench of alcohol and different kinds of smoke. It was never home. She never called it home because it wasn’t; it was a grave. She’d die there if she hadn’t of left. The night she left was the night she wished she hadn’t.

Raven finishes her stretch and workout routine, jumps into black jeans and throws on a white muscle tee. As she straps on her tan work boots, she hears Clarke groan in her sleep. She pops up off her bed, pokes her head in her room and sees her roll over. Raven feels the need to protect Clarke from the world and sometimes from her own self. She would willingly whittle herself into nothing for the one’s she loved, even when they tell her not to.

Once she is sure Clarke is settled in to slumber she makes her way into the kitchen to prepare her travel coffee.

 

**7:00am**

Raven arrives at the hospital to visit Niko before heading to Trigeda Studios. She’s been visiting him for the past few days because they are friends. He was similar to a father figure but more like a brother. Niko cared enough to teach her things she would be interested in but wouldn’t dare ask. He noticed her intrigue, paid mind to her ability and after showing her something once he would trust her to succeed. She would have been in stunts if it weren’t for her leg.

“Hey Swish… how are you feeling?” Raven asks while dragging a chair to his bedside.

“Broken like my pride,” he quips but it doesn’t move beyond the corner of his mouth.

“They shouldn’t have let you go so fast but what’s important is that you’re alive. You could have died if you hadn’t of tucked and rolled off like you did…” she assures him that this way is better than not having a way at all.

He nods delivering a smile at her sentiment but she knows it doesn’t help. Words have little ability to heal compared to time.

“I’ll be sure to give the new stunt coordinator hell for you” she assures him, “I have to go to Trigeda but I wanted to give you this.” She hands him a metal sculpture of a bird, “you know for taking me under your wing and all that bullshit.” She assuages with a smile and grips his shoulder before exiting his room.

“ _Ste yuj”_

Raven pauses in the hallway when she thinks she heard him call out to her but she hears nothing afterwards so she shakes it off and makes her leave before her tears show.

 

**8:30am**

Clarke pulls into Trigeda studios and she notices someone right on her tail. This makes her flinch but she knows she is just being paranoid. Down the long stretch to the parking area she can’t help but glance in her rear view mirror the whole way. She can’t quite make out the figure in the drivers seat as she turns in the parking lot. She makes sure she grabs a front row spot so if she were kidnapped maybe someone would see it happen. Clarke watches the car follow in with her and park on the opposite side of the entryway. She squints her eyes but she can’t see through the dark tint of the windows. Letting out a deep sigh she idles in her car for bit checking her emails and social media before heading inside. She opens twitter reading the latest posts on her feed.

\---  
**Discovery** @Discovery The sun’s life span is a speck in comparison to the other stars in the universe >> [Big Stars.IMG]

 **Monty Python** @MCsquared Finally! lez girls will wear le costumes magnifique!

She looks up from her phone to see if the other driver has exited their vehicle. Their car is still running and she thinks they might be watching her. She doesn’t have to be inside for another twenty minutes so she just burrows down in her seat and continues on her phone.

 **Smithsonian** @Smithsonian Inky’s not the only cephalopod who has amazed us with its intellect s.si.edu/26dKbYD via @OceanPortal

 **Museum of Modern Art** @MuseumModernArt Rainy day in#NYC..a good excuse to spend some hours more at @MuseumMordernArt [VanGoghStarrynight.IMG]

 **Jaspergers** @JasperJordan What the flip do?! Can’t stand trumps wannabe ken doll hair let alone his campaign! #liberal-achee #hairdocare #fliporflop #americanteven

Clarke laughs out loud; hearts jaspers post and giggles, “you’re so gay.”

 **Finn Collins** @FCdirect T-minus 28 days til production of RV! @RoyalViridian @LXwoods @CostiaVillen @OntariNation @FoxxSox @EchoDelemont @AnCrew @TrigedaStudios

  
\---

She reads Finn’s tweet and looks at his tags, she clicks on LXwoods. She isn’t going to creep on her profile, she just wants to see what she has to say as a human being is all, she doesn’t scroll down into her deep history or anything, nor does she stalk her media and lift the phone really close to her face to see in more detail. Clarke doesn’t do that kind of thing.

She notices Lexa doesn’t post that often yet she has over 200k followers. Clarke focuses on her pictures scrolling back in her history, smiling on occasion until she pauses at one photo of her and Costia. She has her arm around her waist and she is whispering something in her ear. This picture seemed intimate in a way. Clarke zoomed in way closer than she needed to and saw that Costia’s lips were grazing her ear. At that Clarke exited the app, inhaled a deep breath leaning her head back in her seat. It shouldn’t bother her this much but it does. It’s getting close to the meeting time so she decides to make her way inside forgetting all about her parking buddy.

As she exits the truck her phone vibrates in her dress pant pocket.

\---

**RavenClaw**

**_[8:45am]_ ** _You better be up and trotting princesa melocoton to the studio by now!_

**_[8:47am]_ ** _Let me know if you’re alive! You seemed pretty dead this morning! XX_

Clarke shakes her head and replies.

 ** _[8:48am]_** _Shut your wet mouth! We are here and queer, walking up now. Lol :)_

_\---_

She was about to type another reply when she felt someone walk up close behind her. Before she could see who it was she increases her pace and takes a step to the side to avoid contact. She panics a little but doesn’t show it; ready to fend off any abductor she readies her lungs to wail.

 ---

 ** _[8:48am]_** _If I go missing Raven, check the video tapes of Trigedahpgg’b i_

_\---_

_“AHHhhhhh!!”_ She screams jolted from her text when a squeeze to her sides made her grip her phone for dear life and jump a mile high. Her scream trails off like a tornado siren, “ _ahhhumm…_ why do you keep doing that! Seriously, do you get off?”

“Hello Clarke,” she shrugs while striding along through the entrance, “something about seeing you jump excites me.”

“Wait…do you drive a Jeep?” Clarke asks with slight indignation looking back in the parking lot.

Lexa uh-hums and keeps walking when Clarke had slowed her stride to inquire.

“What, you waited for me to exit my car before gracing me with your presence? Stalker much Lexa?” she banters with sarcastic undertone as she catches up.

“I thought you said you would control your ‘urges’,” she continues while sending Raven a text.

 ---

 ** _[8:50am]_** _On second thought, check the prison cells because I will murder this woman soon._

_\---_

“I said I would work on them Clarke, though with you it might be futile.” She shoots her a side-glance accompanied by that smile.

Clarke doesn’t hold back her smile while looking her up and down from her peripheral. She notices Lexa is way more casual than she usually is wearing sunglasses, dark denim, a red flannel loosely tucked in front, and beat up black vans.

“You look…” Clarke swallows not meaning to say that out loud. They arrive in front of the elevators where she decides she best not say anything more and bites her tongue.

“I look… what Clarke?” Lexa lifts her sunglasses off her face to sit at the top of her head. _Oh you fucker…_ Clarke scolds herself not to look at her eyes. She notices Lexa’s gym bag and realizes she must have just come from working out.

“uh… tired.” She offers the first thing that came to her mind. She doesn’t have to censor her thoughts often and gives sardonic thanks to her quick-witted muffin brain for its contribution.

**Bzzz**

\---

**RavenClaw**

_[8:52am] Shwut? Who dis bish?_

_[8:52am] BTW I can’t imagine you murdering anyone. You couldn’t even kill the spider in the bathroom last night! I had to come save your naked ass._

\---

“Thanks for the pep talk Clarke” Lexa deadpans.

She replies with out lifting her head from the safety of her phone, “Anytime Lexa” she regains her nerve and decides to turn the tide in this little soirée, “I’m good at making girls tired.” She grins proud of her joust and continues texting Raven.

\---

 ** _[8:53am]_** _There are many ways to slay a woman Raven ;)_

 ** _[8:53am]_** _Lexa won’t know what to do with herself once I am done. Game on._

_[8:53am] Get it!!!!! I expect a play by play._

_\---_

Lexa chokes on nothing bringing her fist up to her mouth to conceal her surprise at the comment. She shifts the weight to her other leg and reaches slowly across Clarke’s visual path over her phone to push the button to the fifth floor making sure her chest grazes against her arm.

“Are you now?” she asks at a near whisper turning her jaw to sneak a peek at Clarke’s reaction as she slowly retracts her position.

_Ohgod… was that her boob on my arm… it was… I mean fuck…_

_\---_

**_[8:54am]_** _Fuckkkkkkk_

 _[8:54am] Herrrrr_  
\---

[A$AP ROCKY- fuckin’ problems](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=liZm1im2erU).

Clarke scrunches her nose at her best friend’s quick response. She steps backwards to lean against the wall because her forsaken knees are anything but reliable. She puts her phone in her bag and comes to the sudden realization they are the only one’s in the elevator. She starts to panic but remembers her resolve; it’s her turn to fucks with it.

Lexa stands a foot in front of her as she leans against the back of this newfound torture chamber. It might as well be called the chokey because she feels like if she moves metal spikes would stab her in submission. She takes a deep breath to calm her heart beating to Asap Rocky.

 _‘I love bad bitches that my fuckin problem’_ She raps to herself coaxing confidence with humor as per usual thanks for Raven.

In her heels Clarke is taller than Lexa today and she takes full advantage of this fact. Despite her heart’s fuckin’ problem, she lowers her bag off of her shoulder to the floor and steps closer to Lexa, closer than she should be. Making sure Lexa feels her presence she lets out a heavy breath and hums.

“mmhm” she hums right behind her ear noticing Lexa stiffen as she returns her weight on both of her legs straightening up. Clarke smiles at her effect almost losing her confidence when Lexa suddenly turns her head and sees the artist positioned inches away from her backside.

 _Damn_. The elevator ascends to the second floor.

Clarke takes this moment to take inventory of her smell; it’s definitely one of her favorites. She tries to think what she can do to mirror her last experience in this elevator with Lexa and perhaps one up it. Clarke lifts her hand to brush Lexa’s hair that has fallen down her back and attempts to push it over her left shoulder like she usually has it. As she does, she puts the tiniest amount of pressure against her back and traces her fingers along pushing her hair past the threshold. She leans just enough to graze her chest against her back and lowers her face to the same position Lexa had hers near her neck. Clarke exhales through her nose hovering barely touching her skin and transitions into a deep inhale. Clarke’s breath is steady, her skin tingles, and all ulterior motives fade away as her scent fills her up in the way a dry well embraces heavy rain.

The elevator ascends.

She swears she hears a whimper coming from Lexa’s throat, which fuels her confidence to whisper, “Better?”

Clarke witnesses her cheek rise and she is sure she has her smiling. She gasps when she feels Lexa lean back into her chest and is surprised that she keeps her ground. Clarke doesn’t want to step back, she in fact feels the urge to grab her hips and pull her even closer.

“Now it is” Lexa says as she turns her head further to where Clarke can see her plush lips remain parted, her bottom lip glistens from being tucked in her mouth.

**Ding**

The elevator dings at the fourth floor, the doors open.

Clarke swallows, immediately pulling her hands away from Lexa’s hips that were millimeters from pressing down. She retreats back into the wall, lifts her bag off the ground and back onto her shoulder.

Monty hops in with out acknowledging his interruption, “Hey Clarke!”

Clarke clears her throat, “Hi Monty, ready for today?” she braces herself up by the railing that digs into her lower back.

Lexa runs her hand through her hair a few times straightening up excessively.

“Oh god yes, I am more than ready. I’ve been shopping and gathering fabrics for months. I’m ready to dress these lesbians.” He laughs flapping his hand down in the air breaking his wrist to let it flop.

He turns noticing Lexa beside him, “Wehell… and you must be one of them. You’re gorgeous, let me look atchew girl.”

Lexa smiles at Monty’s antics turning toward him glad to have a distraction from the heat between her thighs.

“My name is Lexa and you are the costume designer I presume?” She extends her hand.

“I’ll be the one making your ass look good in dem jeans, it’s a pleasure!” He grabs her fingers giving her the flimsiest handshake Clarke has ever seen. This makes her chuckle coercing Lexa to look at her with a growing smile. One Clarke hasn’t seen before, she would say it’s a shy smile that has a sureness to it. She likes it.

“As if she needs help in that department Monty…” With his flamboyant presence Clarke uses his curtails to propel her ahead of the game.

The elevator arrives at the fifth floor at the perfect moment giving Clarke the opportunity to exit gracefully, she steps forward, puts her hands on both of their wrists to part the tide and struts her hips as she walks away turning her head with a wink.

 _Nailed it._ She grins to herself as she continues her long strides toward the conference room.

“Damn!” Monty looks after her and turns to Lexa, “Looks like she doesn’t need help in that department either huh Lexa?” He finds her mouth open and not moving from her position inside the elevator. Monty stands outside the precipice in his tightly tailored suit, pants high watered to show off his Gucci loafers.

“I’d ask if you’re coming but it seems that you already have,” he laughs before following the blazing trail that Clarke had left behind her.

Lexa shakes her head, stepping out of the elevator to follow Monty. “Hey Monty” She catches up to him.

“Yes mon chéri?”

“Do you know Clarke?” she tries to sound less eager than she actually is.

“oui, I do. We have been friends for a few years. Why do you ask?”

They walk through the doors held open by the oompa loompas and find that the whole room has been cleared besides a foldout table in front of the storyboard wall.

“Oh nevermind” She manages to say before splitting off to join the cast near the wall opposite of the table.

The table houses four fold out chairs where Indra, Finn, Monty and Wick, the production designer, are sitting. Clarke notices that there isn’t a chair for her and wonders why she has to attend this read through if she can’t even sit and sketch.

“Clarke” Indra calls her over.

She sets her bag down under the storyboard and walks over to Indra leaning in, “Yes Indra?”

“You will be walking around the cast today as they move. Monty will most likely be walking around with you after he, Finn and Wick discuss the characters’ style and the over all tone of the film. Go ahead and sketch silhouettes of each cast member and have your markers ready to loosely interpret Monty’s direction. He will join you around the room when he is ready.”

Clarke nods retreating to her bag to get her sketchpad, Prisma markers and pens. She wonders how she can hold all of her supplies as she walks around the room looking at herself for a solution. She is wearing a skinny belt with her dress pants so she decides she can some how tuck her markers in it like a tool belt. Clarke gets a great idea, dragging her bag out from behind the table and into the open. She looks across the room and sees Lexa in casual conversation but glancing towards her. Deciding to keep this thing going with out any clear goal in mind, she slowly unbuckles her belt while looking under hooded eyes back towards her. She sees Lexa look around the room as if to see if anyone else is witnessing this. Clarke smirks and loosens her belt by one notch so she can fit the width of the markers snug in between her belt and hip. At this moment she is glad that Mr. Blake isn’t here because the only eyes she wants on her are green. Clarke has a huge set of markers in her bag, so she turns and carefully shows off her ass by bending down, crouching her knees to choose her favorite colors along with the colors she thinks would suffice for beach style attire. She turns and finds Lexa absent-mindedly nodding to Costia while she grabs glances toward Clarke just like she wants her to. The artist continues her display and takes her spiral bound sketchpad placing it between her thighs, takes her thin black pen that she will be using and tucks it between her teeth, and very deliberately begins to wedge her thick markers in her belt. She lifts her gaze from her task only a few times to make sure Lexa is still watching—she is.

 

Clarke’s smirk still pulls at her lips as she nonchalantly lifts her blouse up showing a sliver of her stomach to place the last of the markers in her makeshift holster. Once she situates her self, making sure the markers are somewhat secure, she grabs her clip off her bag and proceeds to put her hair up. She knows her shirt is short and purposefully stares at Lexa as she lifts her arms up, shirt rising above her belly button, to twist her hair out of her face. She notices Lexa biting her lip staring at the exposed skin when she catches Clarke staring right at her with a smile and with that she turns bright red. _Gotcha._

Triumphant, the artist takes the pen out from her lips smiles wide pushing her tongue against her front teeth in a playful grin and grabs her sketchpad from between her legs. She opens it to a new page and starts to sketch silhouetted figures to await the drapes of color she will add per Monty’s instruction.

* * *

 

[ _Nuages- Dreams_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvFehT0XM1U)

_(chil au)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want this fanfic to be less heavy than my other one-- however humerous I have some serious plot planned for this. My inspiration from many of my favorite books.


	4. Uh Oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on RV: Clarke has a sex dream that turns into a nightmare, it confuses the hell out of her. She wakes up to her best friend who calms her by sharing her aunt stripper dream that only weirded Clarkey out more. Raven goes all guru and tells her she is afraid of loss and to let people in. The tide is turning and she feels it. Indra meets her for lunch in a run down Korean restaurant (Clarke likes kimchi?!-- who are we kidding she likes all food) and Indra subtly reveals that Clarke might be in danger. She finds a mysterious gear card on her windshield, wtf? 
> 
> Raven is a bad ass who has a lot of tattoos but her main weakness is her heart. Her parents are druggy drunk assholes who she ran away from when she was young only to regret it as soon as she did. 
> 
> Clarke stalks Lexa on twitter and Lexa keeps startling her, I'm pretty sure it's to just watch her boobs jiggle. The game continues as Clarke takes control and completely turns the tables on green eyes. gotcha.
> 
> Monty is like 'flame on' and goes kamaya maya on the costumes for this lezzy show. 
> 
> The meeting is under way and Clexa is all cat and mouse.

** Ch. 4 Uh Oh  
**

* * *

****

The meeting is well under way now that Monty finalized his ideas with the director and production designer. Clarke has a pen in her mouth, a grey blue marker in her left hand against the paper, and four open markers in her right hand ‘wristing’ the sketchpad into her stomach. She follows Monty around the cast, drawing the colors he spouts in the style he expresses, switching from one to another in haste as he changes his thought to the next character. She is consciously aware of Lexa the whole time, where she is, what she is doing, and how often she was looking at her. Reveling in the attention, she allows her shirt to ride up every time she repositions her sketchpad. Her stomach is like a terrarium housing the home of those butterflies that have taken residence in her abdomen.

\--“Why did you invite her Marie? We barely even know her!” Echo acts out toward Ontari upset and uptight that she had invited Alycia to one of their get-togethers.

Monty whispers to Clarke his current inspiration, she's really into it now, adding her own style to his ideas, of course including every detail he was giving her but as an artist she has an eye for cohesion and she really didn’t think he would mind. In fact, he might even praise her when they sit together later to refine the designs. She is so focused that while flipping a page, she marked her face with a red marker leaving a solid line down her cheek.

\-- “You know…how long have we been neighbors with her Lindsey? She teaches surf lessons for Christ sake! This isn’t Disturbia—she doesn’t have bodies lining her basement walls…” Ontari pretends to stop doing dishes in the sink turning toward Echo and grabs her by her waist. “…Look, I don’t need protecting anymore babe, I get that you don’t want any new element in our routine but she seems lonely. I ran into her and I felt like I should invite her, so I did.” She gives Echo a chaste kiss. “I followed my gut babe… and if you knock that then you knock us because I followed my gut when I asked _you_ out.” She sways Echo back and forth with a cute smile trying to penetrate her fake girlfriend’s tough exterior.

They're practicing their on-screen chemistry since Finn thought Lindsey and Marie needed more of it. Clarke isn’t complaining because she's seen them kiss at least six times, and each time had to be ‘more passionate’ and it needed to ‘make us believe’. She couldn’t deny that she loved her job in moments like these.

The other cast members line the wall opposite to the windows, so those who were reading had the light. Clarke's drawing a dusty grey suit on Echo’s silhouette not noticing Lexa shuffle right behind her, just watching. Monty's talking to Finn about whether Lindsey is more masculine than feminine giving Clarke time to touch up her designs.

“Care to show me a sneak peek?” Lexa asks, her cheek grazing Clarke’s upper arm as she peers around her, more comfortable with physical touch now that they've shared saliva. Clarke isn’t startled this time, although she's sure that’s what Lexa was trying to accomplish. She just smirks with the pen still in her mouth leaning away to look at the actress with a raised eyebrow.

  
“Of what I will be wearing Clarke...” The brunette lifts from her leaning position and smirks in return, liking her own reflection in the sea of Clarke's gaze. “…But I won’t be opposed to other peeks to sneak.” Lexa blurts out. _Omg Lexa, why did you say that…_ She blinks for an extended period of time regretting it as soon as she says it because she knows she won’t win Clarke over this way. But the amount of restraint she has when around the blonde is bare to none so the ‘comfortable cocky Lexa’ saves her from being a blubbering idiot, and hell— the former is way better than the latter.

 _And there it is…_ Clarke rolls her eyes, putting the marker amongst the others in her right hand so she can remove the pen out from her mouth. Lexa’s eyes level at her lips when Clarke licks her them. She can’t help but clear her throat and take a few steps back to keep her cool. Clarke doesn’t miss a beat though, putting the pen in her hair pushing it through so it sticks out just enough to grab if she needs it. She has decent control over her reactions this time. She holds on to the idea that Lexa has gotten— and pretty much gets— who she wants all the time and she will be damned if she just ends up as another clam to jam.

“I’m sure you get plenty of those to fill your quota, so none of these peeks are for you to sneak.” She says through a light laugh, delivering a halfhearted jab; she flips her sketchpad to Alycia’s wardrobe sketches fulfilling her original request.

Lexa straightens up at the comment, knocked down a few pegs.

“We will smooth out the details later but it seems you’ll be a short and shirt kind of gal” Clarke says nonchalantly flipping back to her current progression and diverting her attention. Lexa frumps at the artist, losing at this game miserably. She steps back to stare at the script in her hands with defeat.

 _“Give up, she isn’t interested…”_ Costia whispers to Lexa, obviously taking note of the gravitation she has toward the artist. _“Can’t get em all Sexy Lexi, even though you try”_ She shrugs her shoulders, _“I bet she isn’t even gay but when has that ever stopped you. Worked on me didn’t it?”_

Lexa grips the script in her hands causing it to crease, _“Everyone makes mistakes…”_ she whispers back through gritted teeth. Costia wasn’t wrong but she always knew how to push Lexa’s buttons. They dated years ago when her career first started to take off. They were competing for a role at which the director couldn’t decide who to cast for the lead. He took them on many outings, interacted with them, and recorded some candid shots of their day. It was unusual to be vetted for so long but this particular director was famous in Australia and in the U.S. His raw passion for film is what draws actors to his films and Lexa really wanted to work with him. The director ultimately decided on Lexa leaving Costia dismayed about it. However, the feisty bitch didn’t show it because they started dating right after and it wasn’t until the movie’s premier that Costia showed up as her co-star’s date instead. They weren’t exclusive but it was a huge scandal that not only brought high publicity to the movie; it brought interviews, personal questions, and social media uproar to Lexa’s front doorstep. She was betrayed and humiliated yet she had to repeatedly talk about it for months on end—well she didn’t really talk she more or less avoided it— but every talk, every interview, and every spot she did, they had to ask, they had to get her reaction on camera. It was their job, Lexa knew it, but it suffocated her. She didn’t take a job offer for 6 months after it happened and Titus was split between being elated for what it did for her career and saddened at what it did to her heart. And to top it all off, it didn’t help that the movie was a box office hit. It helped Costia get ahead in her career and shot Lexa into the lime light. Since then, they were always being pushed to work together again because it would be an automatic hit. And now here they are.

Costia grins, _“Maybe I will give it a go…”_ she doesn’t wait to see Lexa’s reaction stepping towards the blonde. She was always using those around her to entertain herself and Lexa hated that about her. They weren’t friends; in fact Lexa tolerated her for the sake of the saying ‘the show must go on.’ This pissed Lexa off more than usual though because Clarke is different and she doesn't need Costia fucking it all up.

“Hi” Costia says bouncing into her last step putting her next to the artist. Clarke turns her head to give her recognition with a curt nod. _Now what…_ Clarke’s intuition tells her that something is off with this girl.  
  
“We haven’t officially met, I’m Costia…” She looks at Clarke’s flat smile, “…and I’m not as big of a bitch as everyone thinks I am.” Costia laughs, which in turn makes Clarke chuckle at her, not really with her. Lexa watches a few feet away. Her stomach is churning—boiling at the sight of Clarke laughing with Costia. Clarke’s laugh was sexy and cute at the same time, which makes Lexa even more upset because it’s for Costia and not her. She tries to think back if Clarke had laughed while talking with her at all—not remembering, she scolds herself for allowing this to happen.

“I just get misunderstood...” Costia is a good actress and right now she's trying to win the Oscars. She lowers her head to draw attention to her writhing hands, it almost seems like she's vulnerable but Lexa knows better.

“How do you like working on a T.V. show instead of a film?” she asks Clarke.

 _Ohh she's good, that fucking bitch._ Lexa can’t stand to sit by and listen to anymore of this bullshit. How can she salvage this to her advantage? She looks forward to these for the opportunity to interact with Clarke and she will be damned if she lets Costia ruin another good thing. Lexa thinks about dramatics, she could fall on the floor and pretend to have a heart attack? No… that would be too much theatre. She thinks about accidently slapping Costia in the face and blaming it on a fly but she didn’t want to seem crazy. Ultimately she decides that drastic times call for drastic measures.

“I like it a lot. Looking forward to production.” Clarke’s response is short and sweet, it didn’t seem like she was going to elaborate being that her eyes never left her sketch to give Costia her full attention. Costia turns toward Lexa and winks giving Lexa the push she needed to go through with her childish idea.

As soon as she's sure Clarke isn’t looking at Costia and Costia isn’t looking back at her, she takes a large step forward—reaches out her hand—swiftly cups Clarke’s ass giving it a little lift and… _oh sweet mother of god it’s perfect…_ Lexa has to force herself to stop herself—just as quickly as she came, she immediately pushes off her front foot returns to standing flush against the wall, lifts the script up to her face and plasters on the most stoic expression she could muster.

And like it was fate, seconds after Lexa pulls away Costia leans in toward Clarke and comments on her work, “You make her ass look almost as good as yours.”

Lexa could barely keep in her giggle at the perfect pick up line to her sabotage. She observes; Clarke promptly stops her marker from drawing and swivels to look behind her at the intrusion on her ass. She barely glances over Lexa who is too far away looking at her script then back over to Costia who is looking at her with a sly smile.

 _Really? Wow, You take the lady right out of tramp!_ The artist narrows her eyes at the only suspect of her molestation.

“This ass, Costia, is not and will never be for you.” Clarke has zero tolerance for unwarranted groping. She has had her fair share and has taken care of herself every time. Suffice it to say she takes it off the table immediately and shuts it down hard. “Save it for Lexa, some of us have class and won't drop them just because you want it.”

Lexa curls both of her lips in her mouth to bite onto. _Oh… That ricocheted right into my lady bits._ She sighs into her script. Of course Clarke knew about the scandal, who didn’t know. But she didn’t except that, she didn't expect to be thrown in.

Costia raises her eyebrows at the sudden change of demeanor from the artist. She gives up, seeing there isn't a way back from that, and mumbles under her breath as she went back to stand next to Lexa.

 _“She is a bittchh…”_ she mutters to the brunette.

Lexa leans in, _“You’re a bitch, Costia. I think you’re just mad cause she saw right through you or… your acting has gotten worse over the years. Either way, she sunk your battleship.”_ She laughs at her own childish joke until an agitated Clarke turns around and nearly snarls toward her. Lexa swallows her laugh down into a choke. _Shit, Clarke… I wasn’t laughing at you!_

Lexa shrinks her shoulders burrowing her head into her script while ignoring Costia’s smug smile. Now it seems that she is in the doghouse right along with Costia. She kind of regrets grabbing her ass...(kind of). _“Looks like you’re sinking in the ocean with me Woods. She has got sass, I will give her that,”_ Costia says with satisfaction.

Clarke doesn’t enjoy mockery, it’s a product of a weak mind and damaged souls, and so she moves around to the other side of the room when Finn speaks up, “Alright Thank you Lindsey and Marie, well done. I'm actually starting to believe you two are a couple. Lets read from the next scene: Carey, Alycia, and Siobhan—you’re at the beach after finding out that Carey’s client is the same as Alycia’s client for surf lessons. Siobhan, I don’t want Hollywood bitch. I want girl interrupted meets cruel intentions. Start from line 3.”

As the actors take their positions, Clarke hears her phone buzzing in her bag. Over the last hour and half, Monty has sufficiently given her two to three outfit ideas for each character. He seems to be satisfied because he transitioned from flirting with Finn to practically sitting on the table in front of Wick. This makes Clarke shake her head with a smile reaching into her bag for her phone.

\---

**RavenClaw**

_9:35am_

_Missed Call(s) 3_

_10:22am_

_Text Message(s) 6_

_  
\---_

Raven rarely reaches out this much unless something is wrong and at this moment Clarke feels her guts ripping out at the possibility of something happening to Raven. She starts to panic causing her lungs to constrict. Short breaths are all she can do as she throws her supplies into her bag and strides to her supervisor. “Indra. I have an emergency. I have to go.” She only pauses to see her boss nod in concern before sprinting out the door. Once out of the room she calls Raven.

_Ring Ring_

_Ring Ring_

_“Clarke?”_ Raven’s voice sounded strange—weak.

“Raven? What’s wrong- Where are you?!” Clarke felt sick to her stomach at the sound of her voice. She makes it to the elevators, clicks on the down button and waits for it to arrive.

 _“Polis”_ Clarke barely hears the whisper from the other end.

“Okay, don’t move. I’m on my way.” She tries to speak in a calm loving voice but it was shaky and full of worry. Clarke grows anxious because Raven is a solid person, her rock, and has been since they met. There have only been a handful of moments where she needed support the way she often gave to Clarke: the day her parents came after her for money and when Octavia walked away for the last time are the most prominent two. Something big must have happened.

\---

Lexa watches the artist remove herself from their side of the room and then run out of the room in a flash. This was the last thing she wanted to happen today. She felt terrible; she had to make sure she knew that she wasn’t mocking her. A strange feeling inside convinces her that if she doesn’t go after her now, Clarke would shut her out for good. Despite being in the middle of her read she requests a five-minute break and runs after the blonde.

“Hey Clarke…” Lexa runs up beside her, “I wasn’t laughing at you in there. Costia is—“

**Ding**

_[St!ler- Down](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lWljoeeZJ3Y) _

“It’s fine Lexa, I have to go.” Clarke is completely distracted; she doesn’t have time for games right now. She didn’t care what they were laughing about.

 _You can both go fuck yourselves._ She steps into the elevator, presses the first floor button and crosses her arms. Her eyes have yet to focus on Lexa, her mind shuffles through every thing that could be wrong with Raven. All she knows is that she is the most important thing in her life and there is nothing that Clarke wouldn’t do for her.  
The doors begin to close—

Just as they were about to shut completely an arm pushes through and triggers the safety release

—they open.

“Clarke, I…“ Lexa stands in the middle of the elevator doors with her arm pushing the door to stay open.

 _What the hell!_ Clarke has no time or tolerance for this so she pulls the actress into the elevator by her arm just so she can move this along. She jams her thumb into the inverted arrows button to close them. Once the doors close she steps back and leans against the back wall, arms crossing again, looking at anything besides green eyes.  
  
Lexa’s heart feels like it was left on the fifth floor as Clarke handles her roughly into the elevator. She's yanked inside and released so quickly she couldn’t finish her sentence. Confused about why Clarke is so worked up, she looks into those eyes, finding them shimmer with stress and worry. Lexa hopes it’s because of something else and not her. Her eyes trace the soft curves of Clarke’s face, her nose is sharp but it’s the perfect shape and size to fit between her round cheeks. The freckle above her lip is so inviting perched upon the dunes of her favorite lip. She wants to speak but she feels an overwhelming sense of self-consciousness around the blonde. Her actions never seem to be right and her words can’t do her justice. This elevator was becoming the only place she could get Clarke to herself, unadulterated and vulnerable as the day she blessed the world. This metal box was becoming her heaven on earth.  
  
Clarke is agitated; this girl is infuriating. “What Lexa? Are you here to defend your girlfriend or just mock me some more? Because if you are then don’t bother. I don’t have time for this; whatever this is between us is just a game. I was playing along but not anymore; I don’t know why I was doing whatever the hell—We work together so I think it’s best if we keep it professional. So whatever you’re doing just st—

**Slam**

_Shut up Clarke._ Lexa pushes Clarke flush against the wall; the rail digs into her back when she feels Lexa crash her lips into hers. One hand grabs the side of Clarke’s face assuring her she's the most precious thing that she wants to devour—her other palm pushes into her taught stomach as her long fingers pull at fabric. She doesn’t breathe at first but when the blonde doesn’t shove her away, Lexa exhales through her nose easing into the kiss and licks under Clarke’s top lip before taking it between her lips. Her hips lock the artist into place _._ Lexa’s waist twitches into the blonde as soon as her tongue tastes that sweet flavor she got a sample of days ago, the same sample she tasted for the rest of the night not daring to drink until she was sure the taste was gone. Her nose fills with that lavender lily, her insides rupture from the sheer ecstasy just from being this close to Clarke. Lexa swears she would never do a drug again if she had this—if she had Clarke.

The artist grunts at the impact of Lexa’s lunging body and blinks erratically before closing her eyes giving into the aggression. She can’t help but feel déjà vu flashing back to the night at Polis, except the tables are turned. The brunette offers her supple bottom lip that Clarke takes in kind as her hands reach out grabbing onto the edges of her flannel to pull her closer. The words she was so determined to deliver are lost on her now.  
  
She wants to feel her.  
  
Lexa responds by deepening the kiss, turning her head for a new angle only to be greeted with an open mouth. This makes her breath hitch in suspension before entering. Once inside, an eager tongue greets her; she wastes no time licking into it with vigor.

She wants this.

Lexa pulls away to make sure Clarke does too, _“Clarke…”_ She whispers, almost in question. _Should she continue?_

The artist pulls away at the sound of her name and opens her eyes. She takes this moment to catch her breath staring into the earth of Lexa’s eyes, from one to the other. They stand there looking at each other as the elevator falls past the third floor. Only seconds have gone by but Clarke is still frustrated. She is frustrated that Raven, her rock, is weathering away, frustrated her job is fraying into the unknown, frustrated that her dreams betray her reality, and all she wants to fucking have right now is control—

Clarke flings Lexa into the adjacent wall, slamming her into without regard, giving into her desires. She elicits a grunt from the brunette and looks into her eyes once more before shoving her tongue into her gaping mouth. Clarke leans flat against Lexa’s tense body pushing her palm against her inner thigh to spread her legs apart so she can shove her thigh in between. Lexa lifts on the wall from the intrusion.

“ahh…” Lexa yelps in surprise.

Clarke grins, practicing zero restraint as she bites into her lips making sure _not_ to sooth them after, like punishment. She suffocates her worries into the only thing that makes the world slow down.

_"Lexa..."_

\--<<\--

The actress winces in pain from the railing but it’s instantly forgotten when Clarke shoves her thigh in between her legs. She lets out a yelp then a strangled moan when the blonde’s tongue invades her wet mouth. Lexa bucks her hips into her thigh desperate almost commanding her to let her cum right then and there. Clarke increases the intensity of the kiss, biting and twisting her tongue over and under as she puts more pressure into Lexa's crotch, giving what the girl below is pleading for. Lexa groans at the forceful nips Clarke delivers, returning them in the same fashion. It’s almost like they're punishing each other for being teases, telling each other ‘how dare you for wanting me’. The friction is sorely welcomed, so much so that Lexa ruts into the blonde in sync with each flick of her tongue. _Ohh...fu—_ Her core crumbles under the sadistic pleasure of this encounter. It isn’t as sweet as she smells, it’s dangerous and the brunette burns for more.

Clarke grabs her waist like she needs it, pulling her further into her—helping the thrusts make rough contact. To catch her breath Clarke bites Lexa’s lip one last time and transitions to her neck. Her hot breath billows upon her skin. She inhales the mixed scent of lavender and meadow. Her own smell melding with Lexa’s, it’s intoxicating. The smell alone produces a whine in the blonde’s throat involuntarily giving into it with a growl. She chooses the most sensitive area on her neck to suck hard and languid. “You like that?” she whispers into Lexa’s ear, not looking for a response.

**Ding**

Clarke sucks harshly on her pulse point once more before biting down, leaving a mark. “Fuck you Lexa…” she whispers in Lexa’s ear, deliberately moving her lips against it.

The Elevator doors open to the first floor.

Hearing the doors open into reality she pushes off of Lexa’s hips and strides away through the doors, down the lobby and out the front all before Lexa can even feel the pain from Clarke’s bite.

“I’m already fucked…” Lexa breathes, standing in the elevator, legs and mouth wide, heart still on the fifth floor trying desperately to follow the girl out the door. She watches blonde hair flit and fly over marble and into the concrete jungle of L.A.—the doors close. _Fucking hell._ She breathes heavy, tears prick at her eyes and her fingers press against the damp reminder of where Clarke was just moments ago. Lexa looks up into fluorescence hoping to quail the tears that threaten to spill. It isn’t that she' sad at all; she's overwhelmed. The flood of feelings flow free when Clarke is near her, when she can taste her in her mouth it's electric and compounding. The doors have been closed and she hasn’t pushed a button, sitting idle in a place that no longer held the element of allure.

After a few more breathes, Lexa presses number five.

 

Clarke busts through the front doors of Polis heading straight for the bar, where she knows Raven will be. Her mind reels over what just happened but she pushes it away just like she did to Lexa. She will leave it at that, her mind is always a little clearer once she satiates the hunger that grows for the girl.  
  
It’s like she got her fix so she will be good for a while.  
  
Clarke finds Raven at the bar with her head in her arms holding on to a half empty beer bottle.

The blonde scoots into the stool next to her best friend, rests her head on Raven’s arm and whispers, _“I’m here babe”_

Raven shifts to rest her head on her other arm putting them face-to-face with inches in between. Clarke tilts her head so her chin holds her head up right, she looks into her brown eyes and discovers that they're red and puffy-she's been crying.  
  
Clarke brings her hand up to caress her cheek then wipes damp hair off from her forehead.

“Ray…my sweet RayBay… what happened?” Clarke asks gently.

Raven lethargically lifts her head off her arm breaking eye contact and chugs the rest of her beer. She lifts her beer up to the bartender asking for another but Clarke catches the his attention canceling her order and hands her cash to cover the tab. Still not over her last close encounter in this bar, she doesn’t want to spend another second in here.  
  
“I have beer at home Ray…Come.” She lifts Raven’s arm coercing her to follow, “Come on…Lets go love”

Raven hesitantly lifts off her stool and follows her out into the parking lot. She stops walking once they arrive at the blonde’s truck pulling her in to a burly hug.

“I need you” Raven’s voice muffles in Clarke’s neck.

Clarke feels Raven’s lips start to move against her neck causing her to turn her head to face her, “Ray? What…”

The look on the brunette’s face was desperate and vulnerable. Clarke looks at her searching for answers waiting for her to speak but she doesn’t. The words are perched on Raven’s lips but she's afraid if she solidifies what happened it would make it real. She didn’t want to believe this was happening, her emotions crack the barrier she built years ago. She didn’t want to feel this again, she never wanted to feel this weak again. With one audacious breath Raven leans in and captures Clarke’s lips. She grabs her face with both hands managing to coerce her tongue inside. They haven’t kissed like this in over a year; Clarke has no idea how to react. Her best friend is hurting but this wasn’t going to help anything. Clarke knew that if she let this happen they both would regret it so she pulls away despite the protest she receives.  
  
“Raven! Stop…” Raven moves to her neck trying to continue, “RAVEN!” Clarke shoves her off this time and grabs her wrists. “What's happening, why are you doing this?!”

Raven yanks her wrists out from Clarke’s grip, “What Clarke?! Am I not good enough for you _either_?” her voice cracks.

“What the _hell_ Raven?” She steps forward not letting her push her away with words, “You know that’s not true.” Clarke scrunches her face trying to think of what could possibly make Raven act this way.  
  
Raven paces in the small space they are in as she thinks of what to say. Her nerves are shot and her hands are shaking like tambourines…

“It’s Octavia.”

She pauses at the sound of her name falling from her lips, and then she holds her breath waiting for Clarke to react.

The blonde steps closer, “What?” She can’t believe what she's hearing. They haven’t heard or seen O in over 7 years, this can’t be. She moved away. “Have you been in touch with her? What do you mean Raven, is she in town?!”  
  
“No, Clarke…. She—“ Raven looks away grips the edge of the Ford’s truck bed and shakes it vehemently. “Ahhh! She's the new stunt coordinator Clarke! She's fucking…”  
  
Raven pushes from the car, she wants to say ‘she's gorgeous’ ‘she looks better than she has ever looked’ she kicks the tire and walks a few paces away only to storm back, “She's back and has been back for a while! I had no idea! I'm the one who has to fill her in on Niko’s schedule, I'm the one who has to show her around, I'm the one who has to brief her on the plans for the pilot!” She paces frantically now speaking animatedly with her hands, “I’m there with Niylah talking about prop stuff and then BAM she's there, standing in front of me...I…she seemed to be surprised to see me but— _fuck_! ” Her voice is shaky and full of fear.

Clarke is stunned; her hand grips the truck to stabilize herself, mouth gaping and sore from the unusual attention they were getting today. “Octavia is going to be working on Royal Viridian with us?” She gets over the initial shock, “I… are you…What does this mean?”

Raven looks at her confused, “What do you _mean_ , what does _this_ mean?! It means I’m fucked, it means the show that I’ve been looking forward to working on is now shit, it means—“  
  
“Ray! I’m sorry. I meant, what does this mean for you? Are you going to stick with the project? What did she say to you?” Clarke interrupts seeing that she's distressed and quite frankly freaking the fuck out.

Raven turns around putting a hand on her hip and the other against her forehead, “I don’t know… I don’t know! She didn’t notice me at first; I was bending down inside the boat prop. She asked Niylah where she could find the special effects supervisor and so I turned to introduce myself and…I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing, my heart fell out of my butt Clarke. Literally I lost my ass!”

“Wow… then what happened?!” Clarke leans against her truck fully enthralled.

“Well…” Raven scratches the back of her head; “I kind of freaked out and walked right by her and didn’t stop until I was in the car and coming here. I didn’t say anything to her… Should I have said something?! Shitfuckingchrist!”

Clarke cringes at the visual of her blasphemy, “Ew Raven, no one wants to see shit fucking anything let alone jeebus.” She tries to cheer her best friend up while slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Lets go home, talk it out, hit that bob dummy you got last year and drink ourselves into a stupor. What say you?”

Raven climbs into the bed of the truck, “As long as we can take the hilly way home?”  
  
“Anything for you Ray…” Clarke slowly nods her head at her best friend with a smile but as soon as she slides into the driver seat her smile disappears and worries invade her insides. Raven is the strongest person she knows yet her only weakness is her heart. When she loved, she loved hard and it was always her downfall. That’s why Clarke understood why she kept herself at a distance with everyone else except her.  
  
They were each other’s exception to the rule but rules are meant to be broken.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a crush on the elevator. I can't wait for the production party at the end of the month so we can actually go on set! 
> 
> (and why did no one tell Clarke she had a mark on her face? assholes.)
> 
> P.s. Don't worry nuggets it'll all come together next chapter.


	5. Tweet or Twat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on RV:  
> Clarke is sixth sensing Lexa during the whole meeting while she draws pretty clothes on lesbians. Lexa asks Clarke to sneak some peaks and blondie went all hand in her face--talk to the sweaty palm-- (that isn't sweaty cause she's so hot.) 
> 
> Costia laughs at Lexa's fail and tries her flirty luck just to mess with Lexa, Clarke swerves but laughs anyway. Lexa goes all creep and tries to sabotage Costia by flipping Clarke's flap which causes her to lash out at Costia for molesting her butt- go Clarke! 
> 
> But then she finds out Raven needs her so she bolts like that white Disney dog toward the elevators freaking out that something happened to Raven. Lexa feel bad, runs after her to apologize that it looked like they were laughing at her, only to be Woman-Handled into the sex box. Clarke tells her 'quit playing games with my heart' all backstreet boys style but Lexa says fuck that and eats her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really- but the heat is real, Clarke shoves her back and thigh fucks her until that daunting ding signaling it's the end of WWF. Clarke whispers a fuck you to Lexa leaving her all hot and sticky.
> 
> Clarke finds Raven getting drunk at Polis because Octapus is back! Raven freaks out, sticks her tongue down Clarke's throat hoping to forget but Clarke pukes (not really) and then they decide to go home to talk it out.
> 
> This chapter returns to the same day with Lexa in our favorite elevator.

** Ch. 5 Tweet or Twat **

* * *

 

Lexa arrives on the fifth floor in a daze. She doesn’t know why she functions so improperly around Clarke. She understands her emotions, having to explore them to the point of having none because of her roles in the past. Lexa knows herself but every time she gets near the blonde, her insides haywire and the words she wants to say feel foreign on her tongue. It’s involuntary and thrilling to feel utterly helpless around someone. Lexa has never felt this way, not even in front of a camera or in front of thousands of people. It was something she was used to, everyone watching her. She was a brand that everyone bought into, her outsides weren’t her own, and she was theirs—a commodity. But her insides were always hers, those things no one could ever take away from her. However, Clarke seems to have that capability. She penetrates right through the façade straight into the depths of her soul. It felt messy and ridiculous but for once it was something she didn’t plan for. Her whole life has fit inside an agenda, she knew what she was doing months ahead of time, who she was seeing, what she was saying. Everything had to be calculated and clean, except on set when she could become someone else. When she was working, she poured herself into her characters, becoming them. It was her only escape. And now Clarke; Clarke strips away all the masks she has collected over the years and made her feel juvenile. Clarke saw through her exterior and she felt naked. She has never met someone who can look into her eyes and see the person she didn’t want them to see. It is so raw and real when Clarke looks into her eyes.

Feeling flustered she walks right past the conference room to the bathroom around the corner. She doesn’t know if it’s been more than five minutes but she decides she needs to clean herself up after going complete savage in the elevator. Walking into the bathroom in a daze, she stops in front of the mirror, puts her palms on the edge of either side of the sink and exhales a heavy breath “ _Wow…I am so fucked.”_ Her knees are shaky as well as her breath. She closes her eyes for second before lifting her head to find a smile taking up half her face. That elevator was proving to be one of her favorite places. Feeling eager and impulsive, obviously still riding the Clarke induced adrenaline high; she pulls out her phone and tweets.

 **Lexa Woods** @LXwoods I’m starting to really like elevators  
  
Still smiling she puts her phone away and stares at herself in the mirror. A bit stunned at her appearance, she leans in to find her hair a mess, her lips dark pink and swollen, and… _omg_ … Lexa leans completely over the sink and gets really close to the mirror to see a hickey surrounded by bite marks on her neck. Red flushes to her cheeks tracing the mark with the pads of her fingers, she replays the elevator scene in her head remembering at what point Clarke had bit her. Her phone starts to ding with notifications from her fans, Titus has been encouraging Lexa to increase her social media presence to connect with them and so she decides to finally listen to him for once. She never felt the urge to post anything until now but even then it’s in hopes a particular blonde will see it. Since she doesn’t have her number this is the only avenue she can pursue. Her fan base has always been a bit crazy so her post caused a near twitter malfunction. She decides to look at her account later; it always overwhelmed her. The sheer amount of replies and comments she would get would be in the thousands. She wouldn’t know what to do with any of them, let alone reply.

 

_[Yelle- Completement Fou](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13o1i-cgTOA) _

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she inspects herself in the mirror further until a surprising realization hits; she feels uncomfortable in her pants. She shifts her weight again to discover that she is indeed wet— like really wet. Her underwear held no chance for it was just a sliver of black lace. Lexa steps into a stall, pulls her pants down along with her underwear and starts to clean herself up. _Holy hell it’s like high school all over again._

She tries to salvage the lace with some toilet paper but it was no use, they were ruined. In frustration she takes off her shoes and pulls her pant legs off from the ends, slides the lace off of her legs making sure to slip them off carefully to avoid any further mess and tosses them into the little bin that is bolted to the wall. She puts toilet paper on top to hide the evidence and laughs at herself while she finishes using the restroom. The actress pulls her pants back up which hug at her still sensitive area and walks back in front of the mirror to wash her hands and collect herself before heading back. She flips her hair to the opposite shoulder hiding her purple medal of dishonor and takes a deep breath. “Lo spettacolo deve continuare” she says staring into the depth of her own eyes. She remembers when that saying started to mean something more than just an expression.

 

_Lexa was selected to work on the film The Warmth of Color. They arrived in Italy after they finished pre-production. Italy was their first destination from many, considering the girl in the film was to meet her first love in France during her solo trip across Europe. The film was about connection and the passion between two women, it didn’t focus on their sexual orientation as much as it did of the feeling. The feeling of meeting someone against all odds and exploring each other. Director Filippo Moreau wanted to make his name in Europe as well as Australia and America. He was born in France, his mother Italian and his father French. He always had a passion for film so he moved to the states to build his career. He became a prodigious director despite his family’s wishes for him, which pushed him to work even harder, accepting nothing less than what he envisioned, even if that meant not knowing himself until he found it. So he worked with Lexa very closely, pushing her beyond her own limits which made her question herself at times. It was understood that he was harsh and unrelenting but it still made it very difficult for her to commit to certain explicit scenes over and over again until he was satisfied. Lexa never felt like she was being subjected to it for his pleasure and she knew it was an organic thing to him. He often threw the script to the side and told them to just feel it as he watched and filmed. Lexa had to grow especially close to her co-star, Luna. They understood each other in ways that only were perpetuated from the intensity of their scenes. Often they would film the same scene over and over again for twelve hours, to only continue with the same scene the next day. Lexa and Luna would be utterly exhausted wondering how much emotion can they give scene after scene. And one day just as Lexa thought she nailed it, in delivering her tears and emotions in every bone in her body, he would cut and tell them to start again. It hurt to be pushed so far toward the edge but it also helped her. There was a moment where she almost quit running to her trailer and not coming out for hours. Lexa was tired, frustrated, and unsure of her choice in this film but Filippo came to her trailer after a couple hours giving her enough time to calm down. He knew he pushes actors to their fragility and that is what makes him so successful in his films. The audience can truly feel what the actors are feeling, they cry and laugh with them as the scenes blossom. Lexa was crying looking at a photo of her parents when he calmly sat beside her with out saying a word. He let her relax in his presence and then he told her that she was helping to make film history, that despite previous films in the LGTBQ community, this one would surpass the label and look at the love. Focusing on the human connection rather than what gender was feeling them. The words she often repeats to herself came from Filippo. He told her, “No matter what you are feeling, there are others who feel it too. And having the power that which you hold, you can share that pain and that love to the world letting them know that it is okay to feel those things. That Lo spettacolo deve continuare.” They grew close during the time Costia and Lexa were competing for the lead role and much closer after that. They spent everyday together while the casting director and himself found the perfect match for Lexa. Filippo knew he wanted Lexa from the beginning but Costia was a close second. His choice solidified as they observed the two actresses. He noticed Lexa’s confident shyness, the way her lips flick at smiles that she involuntary gave but most of all he loved the way she ate. It sounds weird to most people but Filippo found beauty in the mundane. He knew he wanted Lexa by the way her lips moved as she spoke, laughed, and ate. One day he focused just on her lips and that is what made the choice for him, they were perfect. It wasn’t sexual at all, for Filippo had confessed to them both that he was asexual. It didn’t mean he was lost on passion, love, romance, and all things that come with sexuality. It’s just he had no desire to act upon them. He noticed that Lexa held a certain disposition that screamed to be explored and **that** is what he wanted to open up on screen. When they found Luna, he encouraged them to spend as much time together before filming. He noticed how they grew together which made Luna the perfect match. Filippo requested they stay in the same hotel room, eat together, sleep in the same bed, and go out with each other. They knew it was in preparation for their roles so they would seem at ease with each other, but they were getting closer than they intended. This is what Filippo was counting on, three weeks before filming he split them apart and refused to let them see each other. At first they protested but quickly understood why. He wanted their meet to be authentic, he wanted their first kiss to feel new and old at the same time like they’ve missed each other from a previous life, he wanted their longing to compound until it unfolded on screen. They must have filmed over 500 hours of film by the end of production. Only to choose 3 hours of it all to form a film Filippo would call a masterpiece. And it was. The film won award after award, earning them fame across Europe and in the states. Lexa and Luna grew apart after the premier and she hasn’t heard from her since but Lexa doesn’t regret anything. In fact she learned more about herself during that year than ever. Filippo became a confidant and a mentor. After watching the film for the first time during the premier she understood why he pushed them so hard, she was surprised to see herself so exposed but it was absolutely gorgeous. The emotions he captured, the scenes he chose, even though Lexa thought she acted better during other shots, he put together something that went beyond sex. It was raw and full of passion, pain and life. Even though the sex scene was long, it was after building the audience up with hope, despair, and heartache. It was visceral. It was real. _

 

The day was still young in it’s glory as the sun scrapes the sky upon the East.

Clarke drives away from Polis with Raven in the bed of her truck, her consciousness stuck in deep thought. She winds through roads and up and down hills with high speed, holding little regard to her passenger in the back. Her mind only comes back into consciousness once she realizes that she is already on her street. It always scared Clarke how she can do that, zone out and drive with out being consciously aware. It was a bad habit, but her thoughts were so vivid it happened often. Luckily she always arrived safely, much to her own surprise. As she was taking a deep breath she hears a noise from behind.  
  
**Thump**  
  
 Having completely spaced that Raven was back there the whole time, her blood spikes into her limbs as she steps on the brake. _Oh my god!_  
  
“Raven?!” Clarke pulls over, parks, and hops out of the truck.  
  
“Hsss, Oww…” she hears Raven call out but she can’t see anything except a body laying flat.  
  
Clarke steps on the tire hoisting herself over to kneel beside her best friend within seconds, “Oh gosh Ray, are you okay? I kind of spaced…” She scans over Raven’s body for any injuries focusing on her leg, touching it and massaging it incase she had hurt it. She doesn’t stop obsessing over her body until she hears Raven bust out laughing.

“Hahaha, your face was priceless” Raven says through her laugh while holding her stomach, “But please continue, my leg appreciates it.”

Clarke’s jaw drops immediately pulling her hands away, “Ray! That was not funny! I thought you were hurt…” She smacks Raven on the arm as she falls back on her ass into a chuckle.

They sit in the back of her truck a block down from their apartment thinking about the day they both had. The silence was comfortable.

Raven breaks it by confessing, “I think I should face my demons Clarke. I want to work on RV no matter if it will hurt me. I love my job and the past is the past right?”

Clarke looks at her best friend trying to see through her tough exterior and into her eyes. The eyes tell the whole story, Clarke’s dad always taught her to read a person in their eyes. Their body language can tell you something but the eyes reveal the story. She sees determination and fear inside those umber orbs. She replies, “The past is what shapes us into who we are but it’s the present that defines us. What we choose to do now is what matters. I think it is time you take your own advice and face those demons.”

Raven nods her head, “Only if you promise to face yours.”

They both agree sitting up to face each other as they initiate their pact ritual. Clarke raises her fist in the air to be met by Raven’s opposite fist in the middle of their bodies. They sit cross-legged with their knees touching; they press their knuckles together like a suspended fist bump and look into each other’s eyes—not blinking. They each think of what’s been hurting them, what has hurt them, they think in silence as they recognize the pain in each other’s eyes. And with out speaking they slap each other across the face with their other hands at the exact same time sending them both flying in the opposite directions. They lay on their sides in shock and laughter. They decided that this would be their ‘seal the deal’ ritual one day after playing an aggressive game of whoever blinks first. They both ended up slapping each other at the same time, which of course caused them both to blink. It was silly and stupid but they discovered that the impact of each other’s slap to the face caused a temporary lapse of consciousness, nothing was on their minds during the moment of impact as well as seconds after. It forced them to be in the moment with out a past or purpose. It allowed seconds of peace along with the feeling of clarity. So they would sit connected bringing all their worries and pain to the forefront of their minds and with an acute understanding when the other was ready they swung their hands across each other’s cheeks with out reservation.  
  
They sit up, both rubbing the right side of their faces with a smile when Clarke feels her phone going off in her pocket. She had followed Lexa the day she snooped on her profile knowing she didn’t post that often but wanted to be alerted on all things for Royal Viridian. It was her job. Her notification center displayed a twitter alert: @LXwoods I’m starting to really like elevators.

Clarke read her notification twice before Raven commented on how red her face was turning.

“Dude Clarke, what is it?” Raven reached to grab her phone out of her hand before Clarke could react.

“What does this mean? And why are you so—“ Raven stops talking while her mind gears turn and grind her genius mind into awareness. She remembers Niylah telling her over lunch that Clarke had run from the elevator out of breath towards her while an angry looking brunette loomed behind her.

“Clarke Abigail Griffin! What happened in that elevator?!”

Clarke tries to grab her cell phone back from Raven but the stronger girl pushes her away with one hand while lifting the phone high up in the air out of reach.

“I won’t give this back until you tell me Clarke!”  
  
Clarke struggles against her friend’s extended arm “Raven! Give it back! Nothing happened okay!”  
  
“HAH! By the look on your face and the way you’re acting now tells me different Griffin!” Raven pushes her down on her back while opening her phone to Lexa’s twitter page.

“Holy shit, her page is blowing up. People are replying and retweeting it every second. She has over 3,000 hearts on it already!”

Clarke stops fighting and lies her head back on the truck bed; “yeah… she has a lot of followers around the world. She doesn’t post that often if at all.”

Raven looks down at her and then back at her phone, “You have to reply Clarke!”

At that she pushes Raven’s arm from pinning her down, twists her body around fast enough to grab her phone out of her hand, “No I absolutely do not!”

“Aw come on! Obviously something big happened to where she would post on her twitter, maybe she is hoping you would see it!” Raven pokes Clarke’s sides trying to get her to lighten up.

It works because the smile that stretches across her face tells Raven that her friend is in deep already. She doesn’t comment on it though hoping that it develops further so she just encourages her to be brave, “Well I think you should comment on it because it’s obviously about you. Get back in the game Clarke, face those demons…” She wiggles her eyebrows at her.

Clarke looks at Lexa’s twitter icon and re-read the post again, “You really think I should say something?”

Raven smiles, “hell yeah! But first what happened in the elevator?”

Clarke looks at her in a way to say ‘I’m not telling you’ when Raven puts her hands up in mock surrender, “hey look, If I don’t know then how can I help you with something to say. Unless you want to do it all on your own and perhaps say something stupid then be my guest.” Raven knew her words would scare Clarke into reaching out for her help, she was never good at social media things let alone having enough game to put out into the public domain.

She started to climb out of the truck when Clarke stops her grabbing her arm, “Okay! I’ll tell you…”

Raven smiles to herself as she recedes back in the truck staying silent so she wouldn’t change her mind.

“We kissed.”

“WHAT!?” The brunette practically screams in excitement at the tidbit of information Clarke just confessed. “Omg! The day Niylah and I went to lunch you kissed in the elevator? Is that why Niylah said you clung onto her like she was the floating door in the Titanic?”

The artist scrunches up her face in embarrassment, “I did not cling on to Niylah, I was wearing heels that day and they were hurting me!”

“Clarke, you have worn heels since high school. They don’t hurt you anymore. So did you?”

Clarke sighs, “We didn’t kiss that day, no.” She pauses in thought, remembering their first kiss at Polis. “Our first kiss was at Polis,” she says while closing her eyes waiting for Raven to connect the event.

“So _that_ is what I walked into in the bathroom! You both looked like wild animals, out of breath and pupils dilated like saucers…so wait, then why does she like the elevator so much?” Raven scoots closer to Clarke, “and did you say _first_ kiss? So that means there was another one in the elevator, right?!”

Clarke was smiling at her friend’s enthusiasm but decides since she has told her this much, might as well elaborate. “Our first kiss was an angry kiss initiated by me at Polis, and that day in the elevator when I _gracefully_ held onto Niylah was the first elevator encounter…” She took a deep breath, “I was standing in front of her and I felt her move so close from behind that I could feel her breath. It was so hot in there so I put my hair up and as soon as I did I felt better because there was a breeze…Only the breeze was coming from Lexa’s lips. She was blowing on my neck Raven!”

Raven bit her lip and nodded her head, “Yeah! And??”

“And she was so close I could almost feel her lips on my skin. She asked me in a such a low sultry voice, ‘better?’ Like her blowing on my neck was on purpose! I couldn’t move, I swear I thought I was going to faint. So as soon as I saw the doors were open, I ran.”

Raven laughs, “you ran right into Niylah’s arms!” she continues to laugh and then interjects, “Niylah said Lexa was glaring at her, assuming that she thought you two were together or something. I bet she was jealous!”

Clarke shakes her head, “Whatever Raven, do you want to hear the rest or not?”

Her best friend seals her lips with an imaginary knob and nods her head to continue.

“So the next time we were in the elevator it was just me and her, so I decided to do the same thing to her as she did to me, revenge and all. I stepped up behind her, got really close, moved her hair to the one side like she likes it and then I whispered really close to her ear the same thing she said to me.”

“Damn!—“ Raven begins to praise Clarke for her game but quickly shuts up once she sees blue eyes pinch at her to be quiet. She complies.

“Anyways she leans back into me unexpectedly and says ‘now it is’ and that’s when Monty walks in nearly catching us. Then today…” Clarke pauses waiting for Raven’s expected outburst but she sees her friend struggling to keep quiet with wide eyes. When she is sure she isn’t going to be interrupted she proceeds, “She follows me to the elevator after I got off the phone with you. Her and Costia were laughing at me or something and she thought I walked out because of that, can you believe that? Like I would be that upset over her. Anyways, she was blocking the elevator from closing and I really had no time. I had to get to my best friend because I had no idea what happened to you, I was so worried.” Clarke reaches out to hug Raven and pulls away, “ So I pull her in the elevator so the doors would close. I start to tell her off, saying that this game we have been playing is over and that I think we should be professional. Then out of nowhere she shoves me against the wall and kisses me. So she initiated the second kiss. I don’t stop it and it gets really heated. I end up pushing her back against the other wall and taking it a step further…” She pushes strands of hair behind her ear, “ I shoved my leg in between hers, kissing her with out restraint, she wasn’t complaining because I felt her grind against me so I helped her, and then I sucked and bit her neck before saying fuck you in her ear.” She says the last part of her story really fast hoping to rip the band-aid off of her deviant story.

Raven sits in silence, wide eyed and mouth ajar. Clarke stares at her expectantly.

“Well?! Don’t you have some snarky comment for me?!” She nudges her friend on the shoulder.

“uh… holy shit Clarke! You really told her to fuck off?” Raven’s cheeks were flush from the story, not hiding that it turned her on a little bit.

“I didn’t tell her to fuck off Ray, I whispered ‘fuck you Lexa’ into her ear. I didn’t mean it like in a harsh way, I was just angry. I hate that she makes me feel this way and that I can’t control myself. It’s so heated that it just felt right. You know like when we call each other bitch? And we both don’t mean it like in a bad way. Well I felt like I said it to her in a good way, like a challenge or something… I don’t know! Maybe I didn’t say it right, I…shit.” She looks down at her hands.

“No, no Clarke, you did _so_ good! Like holy shit, who knew you had it in you! Like your story turned me on and you can’t tell stories worth shit, so that means it must have been pretty damn hot! No wonder she likes elevators now.” Raven chuckles while patting a few reassurance touches to Clarke’s back. “But what’s with all the pushing? Is it like your kink?”

Clarke chokes on nothing and punches Raven in the arm but stays silent. _Maybe it is my kink…do I have kinks? I wonder what Lexa’s kinks are…_

“Okayyyy, so you should definitely say something playful to show her you didn’t mean the fuck you in a negative way also letting her know that you aren’t fazed. Yes?” She nods her head yes until her friend nods back in agreement.

“Give me your phone,” She reaches her hand out. Clarke gives her a weary look, “Don’t worry I won’t post it until you approve.” Raven assures. With that Clarke hands over her phone.

Clarke rubs her thighs nervously as Raven thinks before typing something out. Once she is done she shows her: **Clarke Griffin** @Griffindork @LXwoods Do you prefer going up or down?

She blinks at the obvious innuendo and winces in worry, “I don’t know Raven, isn’t that a bit forward? I mean I don’t want to be a pervert.”

Raven hums to herself thinking about the comment, “Maybe... I think it is a tad suggestive but it’s funny! It’s totally appropriate because you both have had encounters and each time you were either going up or down. So it’s not too sexual unless she responds with her preference of going down. THEN it wo—

“OW!”  
  
Clarke slaps her on the arm, “I am not sending anything! Give it back Raven!” She lunges for the phone only to land in Raven’s lap as she lifts it in the air. She wiggles it at the blonde antagonizing her to try and reach it. Clarke pauses for a minute, mimicking little Simba as he approaches Zazoo. She waits… and then pounces! Pushing off her knees, she reaches out to grab the phone but her fingers miss and she ends up punching the screen with all four fingers, which sends it tumbling into the truck bed. Raven falls onto her side trying to crawl toward the phone but Clarke lays into her pulling on her body to increase her stretch for the device. They knee and jab each other, both being highly competitive.

“HAH! Success, I win!” Clarke sticks her tongue out and goes to delete the tweet when all the sudden her face falls.

“RAVEN!”

By the time Clarke looks up she finds Raven already running toward their complex without looking back. “You’ll thank me later!” She hears her friend says disappearing behind the building.

The artist lets out a huge sigh, puts the phone into her pocket, grabs her bag from the cab and makes her way back to their apartment. They didn’t park too far from their place so she decides to leave it. Clarke can’t be too mad at her because she temporarily forgot about Octavia. She is happy to see Raven back to her old self but she knows it won’t be an easy road from here.

Clarke stumbles into the apartment, happy to be home and falls onto the couch with a huff.

“Yo BITCH! What are we going to eat?!!” She yells out hoping she won’t have to move too far for food.

Not hearing any response Clarke’s mind starts to replay the elevator scenes against her will for her to watch and writhe to. _Damn you!_ Her phone vibrates rapidly and consecutively in her butt pocket making the blonde jump into a sitting position. _Ooohoo, that was weird._ Just as her thoughts were getting heated the vibration hit a little too close to home.

She looks at her phone and finds dozens of new follows, and replies to her comment. One caught her eye: **Anya Crewse** @AnCrew @Griffindork @LXwoods Do you like the Ding or Dong?

“OhmyfuckinggodRAVEN!!” Clarke laughs at herself as her twitter blows up. Her profile is set to public so the numbers of her follows increase at a steady pace. Her inbox fills up with the likes of ‘who the hell are you’ to ‘I bet she likes to go down’.

“What?!” her friend comes into the living room having just gotten out of the shower wrapped in a towel.

Clarke gets on her knees bending over the back of the couch to show Raven the conversation.

“Who is Anya? She sounds hot.”

She takes her phone back to look at it and then back at Raven. “How can you say that by one comment?”

“Her comment was hot.” Raven shrugs and makes her way back to her room to get dressed and calls out, “Did Lexicon reply yet?!”

Clarke sinks back into the couch scrolling through all the comments. “No, and I doubt she will! THANKS RAY!” She spits with sarcasm.

 

“Alycia I feel that you are detached today. I need to see your attraction to Siobhan. She is a hot celebrity and you two have some chemistry. I don’t see it right now. Go again from when you see Carey walk up with Siobhan on the beach…annnndd Action.”

“Hi, you must be Siobhan Fraze.” Lexa tries to twinkle her eyes and deliver a small smile to Costia. “And you must be the infamous Alycia Taylor. I only came to you because McConau-gay recommended you.” Lexa laughs, “I hope to not disappoint Ms. Fraze”

Costia scoffs, “Call me Siobhan, Ms. Fraze makes me sound old. Do I look old to you?” Costia lowers her shirt, like she is supposed to in the scene. Lexa looks down and pretends to be interested and swallows, “uhh, No no you don’t.” Costia smiles in satisfaction brushing by Lexa deliberately hitting her boob against her arm.

Lexa exhales and finds Anya in character right behind Costia, “What? Wait… your new client is Siobhan Fraze?”

Anya walks after Costia with Lexa in tow, “Yeah, apparently she is a handful and the last few guys quit. That’s when they brought in the real deal.” She points to her self.

“Pshh, I’m sure you’re real upset about that.” They both turn to Costia who is pretending to take her clothes off to reveal her bikini underneath. They gawk and look at each other before making their way down to her.

Lexa pretends to help Costia get up on her board while sticking to the script with light flirting yet keeping some form of professionalism. Lexa’s character is composed and keeps to herself mostly, so a rich girl like Siobhan is great to look at but her character isn’t too phased by her suggestive antics.

“Cut! Okay that was better but really people. Lets come to the beach in a few days with a little more focus and enthusiasm. Get out of here, I’m tired of looking at your beautiful faces!” Finn waves his hand to shoo them off.

“What has gotten his panties all bunched around his balls?” Anya nudges Lexa as they collect their things.

Lexa shrugs, putting her script in her bag and tries to slip away before anyone can talk to her. She wasn’t in much of a mood either. After what happened with Clarke she starts to over think. And then having to pretend to like Costia when all she wanted to do was kiss Clarke was even harder to bear.

“Hey Lex! Wait up will ya!” Anya scurries to catch up to her, “What’s the matter Lexa?”

“Nothing Anya, just had an off day is all,” she plasters on the best smile she can to assure her friend.

She has known Anya for a few years; she is a pretty good actress but hasn’t done much with her work due to her responsibility with her family. She was always very secretive about it but Lexa never questioned her much being too focused on her own career. However Lexa is glad to have a friendly face on set, for she didn’t really know anyone else besides Costia.

“Hey so what would you say to some beer and pizza at my place?” Lexa decides that it would be better to spend her time with someone rather than spending it alone thinking about Clarke.

Anya is a little surprised at the offer but accepts right away, “Yeah! That sounds good. I’ll follow you?”

Lexa nods as they make their way out of the elevator. Crossing the lobby she sees Niylah talking to a gorgeous brunette. She squints her eyes in their direction but keeps walking because that is none of her business.

“Hey Anya, do you know Niylah?” Lexa nods her head over in their direction.

Anya looks over, “Yeah she is the Key Scenic and super gay. Why you dig it?”

Lexa looks at her bewildered, “What?! No. She is not my type. I’m just wondering what her story is. I’ve seen her around here a lot.” _Especially around Clarke._

They make their way outside to the parking lot, “Well I don’t know much about her other than that.” Anya shrugs her shoulder as she strides to her motorcycle.

Lexa slows her walk when she notices that Anya rides a custom cafe racer Moto Guzzi Le Mans 1000. “Wow… nice bike.” They were all over Europe she even rode one of Filippo’s but none of them looked as nice as this one.

Anya puts her helmet on, “Thanks. You ride?”

“Yes and I own a few… but none like that.” Lexa approaches Anya on her bike walking around to observe the fine Italian leather seat, forest green paint job and gold accent. It was a fine looking piece of machinery. “Did you customize it?”

“My grandfather left it to me, he was a collector and this was his favorite because he customized it himself.” She reaches into the middle of the motorcycle to insert her key into a metal plate labeled Moto Guzzi. Anya revs the engine signaling to Lexa to stop drooling and get a move on.

 

The pizza was delivered and they are currently watching Broad City in a room that contains all things electronic you could ever want. The projector displays a sixty-inch picture on a movie screen wall. A huge couch sat in front of it making a U shape and in the middle housed an array of pillows and cushions to sit on. Lexa leans back against the couch utterly full of the veggie pizza they insisted have every vegetable they had on top. It’s been a few hours since she’s checked her phone so she hops up off the floor to dig her phone out of her bag. Thinking of only one thing—Clarke.

“Holy shit…” Lexa scrolls through all the comments and notifications on her phone.

“Whart?” Anya asks with her mouth full.

“Gross Anya, you just spit broccoli out of your mouth!” Lexa looks at her in disgust and is surprised that Anya can still be eating after having four slices to her two.

“Sho What Levxa!” She swallows, “What’s so holy about your phone, did you see Griffin’s response to your tweet, better yet did you see mine?!” Anya busts out laughing remembering tweeting it during the meeting.

Lexa scrolls down under her tweet to find Clarke’s comment: @Griffindork Do you prefer going up or down?

Her cheeks flush as she scrolls down further to find Anya’s comment. “Oh Anya that is gross. You two are just perverts!” She picks up a pillow and throws it at Anya mid bite causing the pizza to smash into her face. The pillow bounces off her face and falls into the pizza box letting Lexa see her mastery. “OH Anya! Hahaha” She keels over in laughter while Anya sits there frozen as the pizza falls from her nose and chin into her lap. “That…is SO not funny Lexa! You wasted perfectly good pizza!” She whines.

“Whatever, you deserve it! ‘Do I like dings or dongs? What the hell does that even mean?” Lexa asks while laughing.

Anya is wiping her face off with a napkin when she responds, “Do you know what a ding dong is? Or a dong? Well little Lexa, a ding-dong is another word for dick and the term dong usually refers to a double-sided dildo. It’s a simple question, do you like dicks or dongs Lexa?” She tries to ask her friend with a serious face but can’t keep it straight for long because the look Lexa gives her is priceless.

Lexa has stopped laughing while listening to Anya’s twisted humor. Her face contorts into a confused flabbergast and instead of replying she grabs another pillow and throws it at her head but this time Anya was ready for it and snatches it before it hits her.  
  
“Whatever Lexa! Clarke’s comment was just as dirty! So tell me, why did you declare to the world that you enjoy elevators, it’s because of Clarke isn’t it?” Anya puts the pillow into her lap displaying her genuine interest in her answer.

Lexa barely hears her because she scrolled back up to Clarke’s comment and clicked on her profile. Her icon is of her playing a guitar and the banner is of a painting, which she assumes is a Griffin original. _So she plays the guitar and paints._  
She is completely engrossed, mapping who Clarke is in her head, she doesn’t notice the pillow Anya slung her way and just as she was about to click on her media the pillow collides with her face knocking her backwards.

“Aghh!” She uses her abs to stop her from hitting the floor, pops back up with force and glares at her friend. “Hey!” rubbing her face, “That hurt!”

“Whatever, payback is a bitch. Bitch.” Anya says with a smile.

“Are you going to reply to Clarke? I’ve seen the way you act around each other, it’s hard to watch sometimes. That elevator ride the other day was really intense.”

Lexa whips her head from her phone to look at Anya in horror, “What are you talking about?”

Her friend laughs out loud, “Don’t act so surprised, there were three other girls in there with you two. It’s hard not to notice anything in a small metal box Lexa. You were practically devouring her.”

The brunette turns completely tomato not realizing she was being obvious at all but thinking back on it now she was centimeters away from Clarke hovering over her like a vulture. She groans at that notion, “Oh man! I’m such an idiot!”

Anya laughs again, “No you aren’t, from what I saw she was really enjoying it. I mean she could barely stand!”

“Really?” Lexa can’t hide her excitement, she didn’t even attempt to.

“Yes Lexa really!” she says completely amused by the situation. “So you should reply to her comment on Twitter.”

Lexa’s face fell with concern, “I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say…” Anya scooted closer to Lexa on the floor. “That’s why I’m here you idiot!” She jokes.

She smiles at the ease in which they are getting along. She never thought about Anya as someone that she would feel comfortable with but then again she was so trapped within herself she never noticed how much alike her and Anya were.

“So you’ve already started it right? Let me see your phone.” She extends her hand out flapping her fingers to usher. As soon as Lexa hands her the phone she opens the app, “Wow Lexa, your fan base is trending #elevatorstories!” Anya laughs out loud while reading a few.

“Hear this one out, this girl said that one time her and her boss were stuck in an elevator. It was a tall building so it felt like eternity, it got really hot inside and all of the sudden her boss cornered her whispering suggestive things—her boss was a fine stud woman by the way Lexa!— she said that they ended up fucking before they even turned the power on and reached the top floor smelling like sex.” Anya fans herself off while scrolling through other stories.

“Should we let your fan base hear your story?” she teases.

Lexa is sitting with her legs crossed hugging a pillow tightly, “Uh—“ She clears her throat, “No! That is way too much information. That girl should be careful, her boss might see her post.”

“Okay, then we reply with something more subtle. How about….” Anya types a response in her phone: **Lexa Woods** @LXwoods @Giffindork That depends on who I am riding with.  
  
Anya leans over to show Lexa before sending it out, “How about that?”

Lexa scrunches her face in doubt; she grabs the phone, looks at it and looks back at Anya. She then sighs and presses post. “If I end up regretting this, it’s on your head!” she whacks Anya with the pillow and they both fall back into laughter.

 

Clarke and Raven chose to eat at a café down the road from their apartment complex, they always had good coffee drinks and sandwiches. They specialized in vegan everything, which was interesting to Clarke and disgusting for Raven.

“Everything here tastes so healthy! Where is the grease? Where is the msg? I’m starving and I’m eating Clarke… this place is a paradox.” Raven says biting into her vegan burger.

“You can’t tell me that what you’re eating isn’t delicious! And besides, we aren’t going to look this good forever Ray, think about your future mechanic body blubbering around in your shop. You wouldn’t be able to lift anything on set let alone build it!” Clarke leans back in her chair and sips her iced coffee.

Raven squints at her and takes a gnarly bite out of her stupid healthy burger and gives her a wide nasty smile full of avocado, black bean patty, spinach, tomato, and hummus.

Clarke laughs at her best friend, “You’re so sexy” she jokes.

**Ding**

Clarke picks up her phone from the table and swipes to read her notification. She swallows too quickly leaving a painful gulp of cold liquid barreling down her throat, her eyes are wide and she can’t smile fast enough.

“What is it? You start your period?” Raven laughs at herself.

“No, gross. Shut up, Lexa replied to my- your tweet!” Her smile creeps further upon her cheeks as she shows Raven her phone across the table.

“You two are now officially flirting under the radar!” she comments, “No need to thank me Griffin. If you end up together tell her I like the three M’s: motorcycles, money, and models.” She winks sitting up straight as she boasts her shoulders.

Clarke laughs at her annoyingly confident best friend, “Yeah, I’ll let her know.”

After their meal they start walking back to their apartment, “So, how are your props coming?” Clarke tries to make small talk to lead up to her ultimate worry. She knows Raven has been thinking about Octavia using her situation to hide behind, so she just wants to make sure she is okay.

Their arms are locked together by their elbow pits, as Raven likes to call them, and they stroll slowly down the four blocks back to their complex.

“Yeah, they are ready for the beach set. We are supposed to go with you guys to the Santa Monica shore in a few days to test them out. You’re coming right?”

Clarke has been waiting for beach day; she wouldn’t miss seeing Lexa in her wet suit and bikini. Most of her sketches have been of that exact scene and figuring out how accurate her fantasy is, well let’s just say it is a über must!  
  
“Yeah, Indra wants me to sketch while we are there.”

“Don’t sound too excited Clarke, I might think you want to see all those cast ladies half naked.” She nudges into her.

She blushes knowing damn well she wants to see all that, it’s her job. “So you _are_ going into work tomorrow?”

Raven hesitates with her walk for a half step but keeps her stride, “Uh yeah. I will.” She keeps it short thinking about what she has to do tomorrow; whom she has to see. Clearing her throat she quickens their pace, not really wanting to talk about it. Because the more she thinks about it the more she wants to run away. It’s not easy controlling a beating heart when all it wants to do is spill itself all over the floor. Raven keeps things close to chest; she isn’t a person who shows her truth. The only person who has even seen glimpses is Clarke and even then she doesn’t know most of it.

 

“So are you excited for gun training tomorrow?” Lexa asks while cleaning up the pizza pillow and company.

Anya falls back on the couch, having taken a break from watching the dumb bitches in Broad City. “Yeah, I’ve shot a gun before but they want me to roll around and tackle things, pull out my gun and look like I know what I am doing.”

Lexa laughs imagining her doing that, “Show me what you got, there are plenty of pillows. Might as well practice right?”

Anya grins, stands up on the couch and somersaults into the pile of pillows that line the floor. She tucks and rolls, grabs a pillow mid roll, opens herself up at the end to land on her knee and slings the pillow forward before cupping her hand like a pistol. The pillow slings across the room, “Next one goes between the eyes asshole!”

Lexa dodges the pillow with her hands full, “Ah!” she laughs out loud being fully entertained. “Yeah tomorrow might help with your execution, I feel it felt a little unfocused Anya. Try showing more emotion, I can’t relate to your character.” She uses Finn’s directing voice mockingly.

Anya chuckles “Wait, please. Let me try again. I promise I will get it right this time.” Her voice mimics Fox’s voice. She gets back up on the couch and takes off her shirt. She repeats her somersault and flips her hair dramatically at the end with a fierce glare toward an invisible intruder, “Get on your hands and knees before I dominate your asshole!” She says in a deep sexual voice then busts out laughing, failing miserably at keeping a straight sexy face.

Lexa’s eyes bug out of her head at the sudden half naked girl in the room but she ultimately buckles at the waist into a fit of laughter. “Oh my gosh, I think you hit your mark on that one! I am going to throw this away, want a beer?”

Anya scrambles back over the pillows to grab her shirt, “Yarp, beer please!”

Carrying the pizza boxes she shakes her head at her friend. She thinks she could get used to her company, she hasn’t had a best friend before. The constant drag of being a child actor into an adult one doesn’t bode well for friendships. At lease none that can be fostered or kept for more than half a year. This one felt different, she felt like she could trust her. Smiling to herself she makes sure to do this more often.

Lexa thinks about the next few days where she will have workouts and surf lessons. They will be working the beach scene in three days time. Anya has shooting lessons, Lexa, Echo and Fox have surf lessons, Costia and Ontari will also be participating but more so prepping pretty by hair and makeup to see what looks best on the beach and what will withstand the wind and water. Monty will be dressing them while Finn works with Clarke to find the best shots and positions to film.

Finn outlined the whole week during the meeting but all Lexa could think about was how Clarke would look in a bikini on the beach. She wonders if she would wear one, or if she would choose shorts instead with a nice top. Just thinking about it makes her squeeze her legs together. She throws away the pizza box, grabs two beers and jogs back upstairs to hang out with her newfound friend, hoping that the next three days goes by quickly

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lo spettacolo deve continuare= The show must go on


	6. One Foot out and One Foot in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on RV: Lexa is a puddle after getting topped by Clarke in the elevator. She realizes that Clarke is the first person to penetrate her in a non literal way, that Clarke is in fact the one sneaking peeks into her naked soul. (Damn irony).
> 
> She tweets that she likes elevators in hopes to lure a gold fish. 
> 
> We discover that Lexa learned a lot about herself from her first major film, The Warmth of Color. She co-starred with the naked moon, Luna. They grew close but it all kind of went to shit because of Costicunt. 
> 
> But ' Lo spettacolo deve continuare'  
> \---
> 
> Raven balls up and face the 8 sided-shape that waits for her at work. Clarke and Raven play 'aunt suzie had a steam boat' on each others faces to clear their mind and promise each other to face their demons. 
> 
> A twitter flirt ensues between Lexa and Clarke under the radar, but only because their crude ass friends instigate the whole thing. Lets be real, Anya and Raven were the true ones flirting under the radar's radar. 
> 
> Lexa and Anya grow closer but only because Anya takes off her shirt but like totally as friends. 
> 
> blah blah *throws next chapter at your face*

** Ch. 6 One Foot out and One Foot in **

* * *

**  
** The rest of the walk home was in silence, not uncomfortable but contemplative. Clarke walks arm and arm up to their apartment trying to get a feel for Raven’s atmosphere, she knows she has one foot in quicksand as the other inches outward toward her escape. Raven isn’t a talker and never opts to talk; it was always Clarke who would encourage it. And she knew it wasn’t a simple, ‘yes, I’m going to work tomorrow’ and she knew back then that it wasn’t a simple ‘I’m over it’. With Raven, she had to read far between the lines because she wouldn’t offer much. But that is why they mesh so well; Raven doesn’t have to say much for Clarke to intuitively understand what she is saying or how she is feeling. And Raven is thankful that she can breathe around her knowing that’d it be okay if she didn’t say anything at all. She feels like the air isn’t thick full of an urgency to confide and thankful that she can give her one look and be left alone. But most of all she is thankful that she does push her in moments where she needs to be shoved. She knows she isn’t an easy person to be close to and that’s why they work because Clarke isn’t either.  
  
Clarke flops her full belly self onto the couch with a huff bending her knees to make room for Raven on the end. Instead of rounding the couch to join her, Raven keeps walking.  
  
“Ray?” Clarke calls out peering over the couch.  
  
Raven’s heart is beating faster by the second. She told her best friend she was going into work tomorrow and now that she verbalized it, she is panicking- just a little. She turns around to see blue eyes peering over the couch with inquiry- she wants to talk. But Raven isn’t sure about anything, not enough to talk about it anyway. If she isn’t sure about a feeling she usually keeps it to herself until she is. Because if she does, throw some half-baked doubt or feeling into the open, it gets nurtured into something else entirely separate than what it started off as. It becomes something that influences her to consider her feelings in allegory to others. And any influence that isn’t truly her own delineates her from herself and she hates that.  
  
Seconds lap by as she stands there; she can’t help but notice a piece of her thawing. _Octavia_. A name- a person she thought would be framed by a distant sunset in her memories forever. A part of her heart lay frozen in time, understood by the mass that it was forbidden to beat along with it. That part of her heart burns now, thawing at the sudden intrusion of her past. One foot steps closer to her bedroom as she flashes a weary look over to Clarke, hesitating between shutting her out and expressing her distress. She sighs settling on neither and proceeds to her room, the paradox burger suddenly isn’t sitting well in her stomach so she goes to lie down.  
  
“Remind me to not eat at your coffee Café ever again, this machine needs grease to function properly!” she throws out there in light of her mood.  
  
Clarke notices the conflict in her eyes as she walks away and despite her deflective comment she gets up to follow her.  
  
She pauses in her doorway.  
_  
  
_

_[Sia- Breathe me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFGvmrJ5rjM) _

  
  
Her hands prop up on either side of the doorframe leaning in. Raven is lying on her back looking up to the ceiling only glancing at the blonde once before returning her zoned gaze to the patterns above. Clarke releases her grip on the doorframe deciding that something needs to be done. Something she hasn’t done in a long time, something bold. She smirks to herself and starts running in place, winding up like Sonic the Hedge Hog.  
  
Raven notices the sudden erratic movement from the corner of her eye and flinches, “Noh, Clarke! Don’t!” She puts her hands out and lifts her back off the bed but it’s too late! Clarke thunder rolls toward the brunette, jumps on top of her, holds her protesting hands at bay and cuddle attacks her aggressively. She doesn’t tickle her because she learned her lesson years ago and sported a black eye for a week. But she discovered this was just as effective when Raven was in an off mood.  
  
Cuddle attacks— a weapon in her arsenal that had unlimited ammo.  
  
Clarke laughs as Raven resists her embrace catching the contagious giggles and lets out a laugh herself. She wrestles against the inevitable; Clarke never gives up once she goes Sonic.  
  
The blonde clings to the brunette like a koala. “I don’t know why you ever try fighting it!” Clarke says breathily.  
  
Raven huffs, “I fight everything.”  
  
“You didn’t use to” she whispers back still holding tight.  
  
Raven stops fighting and turns her head away from Clarke thinking back to the days when she didn’t use to resist so much, when she could share herself with out reservation.

* * *

  
  
\---  
_8 years ago  
  
Raven was nineteen when she met Octavia, having met Clarke the year before she didn’t have many friends, like none at all. So meeting Octavia was a coincidence, a setting in which fate kick flipped its head and turned into a new hope. She didn’t attend high school where most kids her age meet friends and despite her self-emancipation from her parents they still claimed her on taxes so she was never reported missing. However, she left and never looked back. Finding work didn’t take long; she found a shop in a low-income neighborhood. She offered the owner free labor for a cot in the back. The cot at Sinclair’s was her only refuge for a while; he started paying her after business picked up due to the quality of grease on her elbows and expertise of her mind. She respected him more than anyone and he gave it right back in kind._

 _One night she fell asleep at a skate park a few blocks from Sinclair’s, she skateboarded there on occasion and falling asleep after shredding wasn’t out of the ordinary. On this particular night a lone skater woke her up, almost hitting her doing an axle stall near her head. She was lying with one arm dangling over the edge of the half-pipe when the scrape of metal on metal woke her. Raven dropped in on her board without a word to investigate. A silent co-shred ensued. It was poetic if you were the kind to look upon a moment lit by the moon and notice coalescence at its finest. It was requited in a way that none of them expected nor wanted.  
  
“I haven’t seen you around here, who are you?”  
  
“That’s because I usually skate where I’m not supposed to, the names O. What about you? Do you usually use half pipes as a pillow?”  
  
“I’m Raven. And I’ve slept on worse.”  
  
Months later O.R.C. was formed, Octavia, Raven, and Clarke became close friends. Sometimes they would hang out at the skate park, others they would hang out at Sinclair’s as Raven worked on cars, but most days they hung out at Clarke’s house after she got back from school. Clarke was seventeen and still had high school everyday until 4pm. Her house was empty most of the time anyway. Her mother, Abby, was promoted to chief of surgery while her father, Jake, spent most of his time away at work. Clarke was never sure what he did but she didn’t care at the time because it made her place a great location to house delinquents. Clarke gave Raven the guest room on the first floor, one that no one ever bothered to enter. However, Raven only accepted after a years worth of insistence. But it wasn’t long before her father found out. There wasn’t much that Jake didn’t already know but he let her stay anyway. He was a secretive man but he fit so much love in the moments when he was present. Clarke loved him for it but still found a part of her resenting him for his lack of attendance, her mother included. Despite the luxury of her home and material possessions, she felt just as forlorn as her friends.  
  
It wasn’t long before O.R.C. secretly became O.R.  
  
At first, O would sneak in through Raven’s window in the middle of the night to escape her oppressive household. They would talk shop, decorate their boards, and watch movies. It was an adolescent experience Raven never had, girls sneaking through windows and having slumber parties.  
  
And then she started coming over during the day when Clarke was at school, pretend to leave then come back when she got home like she hadn’t just spent all day with Raven. They would hang out together until Clarke fell asleep and then sneak away by themselves.  
  
That’s when that new hope snuck under her heart-plated armor. Those nights manifested into something more she ever thought possible.  
  
Arms over waists.  
  
Whispers in ears.  
  
Lingering hands.  
  
Tangled Legs.  
  
Lips on skin.  
  
Lips on Lips.  
  
Hitched breathes.  
  
Muffled noises in the night.  
  
Secrets and skin as currency.  
  
“I love you” a greeting and a farewell.  
  
Raven wouldn’t say that they fell in love because it was more like climbing. The air she gasped for in the moments in between was thin. Because without O to share it with, it just wasn’t worth breathing. The incline of it all felt like the ground would never be flat again. Every night spent with her was like scaling a mountain, like she was constantly climbing the spikes of her own heartbeat.  
  
It wasn’t as easy as falling. She couldn’t believe she found something so pure. Something void of the evils she has come to know. Raven still felt the pain against her spine, a fragment left behind from that night. But O made that pain disappear, most nights she barely felt it at all because she was feeling so much everywhere else.  
  
Her heart burned through every doubt and every wall she ever mortared. Miley was right, She came in like a fucking wrecking ball.  
  
Discovering her was like a journey in which she wasn’t prepared for. Adapting quickly as it happened and she became better for it. She learned about herself like one would if left in the wild, except O **was** the wild. Raven learned to love by clambering out of the concrete grave she left herself in; all the better parts of her soul drug out one by one. It was a new hope to life. Every thing about herself was better than it was before. Love was a concept in which she believed was created by the metaphorical Them to trick the sick and twisted into working everyday. Like cogs in the machine fed dreams into believing it was all for something. And now she knows that it exists and that it **is** real. It’s so real she can touch it every night, feel it touch her in return, smell it and hear it.  
  
She couldn’t quite let herself believe this person, this hope, is something that could last. Nothing lasts in her world and she knew by experience that was fact.  
  
All it took was one night, just like the one when they met, to change it all and prove that fact to not be fiction.  
  
“I’m seeing someone else.”  
  
“w-who?”  
  
“His name is Linc”  
  
“Do… you love him?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
That night Raven’s face never dried. She recited her reassurances in her head like a prayer but none of it ever resonated, it never found the root of her doubts. Leaving them to sprout their ugly flowers in the wild.  
  
Now **this** felt like falling.  
  
O came to her window less and less after that. And every time she did they would exchange skin. They would lay tangled together with one set of arms holding tighter than the other. And every time she started to leave Raven would ask the same question and get the same answer.  
  
“Do you love him?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
Raven couldn’t turn her away. She knew she was seeing him too. Clarke would stay with her some nights to ease her into a salty slumber with out knowing what really is going on but most of the time she wanted to stare at her window- waiting.  
  
She kept her window unlocked everyday hoping that she would crawl through one night and say, “ I love you and only you” pulling the weeds of doubt right out from their roots.  
  
Soon, she was more used to nights without her than with. Her tears and pain the only things keeping her company.  
  
And one night after she came, she asked the same question but got a different answer.  
  
“Do you love him?”  
  
“Not like I love you”  
  
Slowly it was turning into something she knew was forsaken. Raven couldn’t stand being some Amsterdam window girl. She started to feel used and dirty. Where love was left lonely and strong, hate grew to keep it company.  
  
“Where do you go huh?”  
  
“You’re going to see him aren’t you? After you’ve fucked me, you’re going to see him like I’m nothing.”  
  
Raven gripped at the sheets covering the dirt that that she felt riddled her body. O stopped getting dressed and looked at her with broken eyes not quite knowing what to say. She couldn’t say she didn’t love him and she couldn’t say she didn’t love her.  
  
The mechanic swallowed thick and wrapped her body so far into herself trying desperately to make herself small, so that maybe she wasn’t this fractured girl who wasn’t enough. Thinking she wasn’t enough for her to want to stay.  
  
Disgusted.  
  
This time O breathed heavy watching the girl she loves recoil into herself. The last thing she wanted was for her to feel rotten and used. And she knew that is how she has been leaving her. But she couldn’t bring herself to break up with her, she couldn’t imagine not having her.  
  
“Do you even love me?”  
  
“Of course I love you Raven…”  
  
“If you’re so sure you love me and don’t even know if you love him then why are you leaving me right now to be with him?”  
  
“You love him.”  
  
Raven’s heart is in her throat. She tried swallowing all her pain around it without choking. But her heart caught all that pain and held it, pumping it through every vessel, choking her. It rendered her limbs useless and numb as her body shook with anger and fear. She could feel the vacuous space where her heart used to be, now in her throat spewing questions out to bleed on the floor un-answered. Releasing all the hope she gathered over the last two years.  
  
O doesn’t know what to say. She loves the girl too much to be the one to cut the cord. She also knows that she is a coward for letting her choices and circumstance splay it for her.  
  
“I don’t know” is all she can say as she continues getting dressed.  
  
“I do love you Raven,” she whispered as she tied her shoes with the splayed strings that used to be attached to Raven’s heart.  
  
The broken girl bit her cheek and just as O opened the window to sneak out again she asks the retreating girl,  
  
“Does he even know about me?”  
  
O froze kneeling in silence with one foot out the window and one foot in.  
  
“I’m sorry…” Then the foot that lay within disappeared taking all hope with it. And Raven sat there, eyes wide, fists clenched as she heard the scrape of the window being closed shut. As that sound etched itself into Raven’s mind, she also felt the scrape of her heart shedding. Hours passed by until only a morsel of muscle remained.  
  
“Me too” she whispered before getting up and for the first time in years, she locked her window.  
  
If O thought that breaking up with Raven was too hard, it was even more excruciatingly painful for Raven to ignore the knocks at her window that came after that night. Despite the screaming that pulled at every single one of her pores to open the window, to ease the pain even if for just a second, she instead grit her teeth and held onto the bedframe keeping her still.  
  
Clarke never knew the extent in which they were involved but she noticed the changes in Raven. It painted a spectrum in which she saw the love of light bring her color and that the absence of it left her monochromatic. She never asked any questions, she just lay beside her and made sure she didn’t fall completely apart.  
  
She tried reaching out to O to find out what happened but it was like the girl never existed at all._  
  
\--- _  
  
_ Raven rolls over onto her side closing herself off from Clarke’s expectations. But Clarke just sidles up next to her with no intention of letting her disappear. While Raven focuses on the passing cars outside her window, Clarke focuses on the tattoos covering the mechanics arm and remembering what they stand for. It’s a full sleeve but she hones in on one in particular. It’s an anatomically correct heart inside of a birdcage with the door open. Clarke went with her to get it and she never told her what it meant but Clarke knew. She sat next to her holding her hand because silent tears fell from her eyes after awhile.  
  
Her fingers trace the bold cage lines thinking about love, pain and loss when a soft wavering voice interrupted her reverie.  
  
“I always thought she’d come back,” Raven confides.  
  
Clarke slows the trace of her fingers for a beat waiting for her to continue. Sometimes it takes an invitation of silence to conjure the hushed whispers from the deep. Raven carries her demons in shackles along with her like shadows. They follow her especially in the light. But Clarke knows her better than she knows herself. In fact they can both say they know each other more than they know themselves. Looking from the outside in grants perspective neither can procure from a mirror. And sometimes a mirror is what one has to be, to hold the other close enough to see the fog showing that they’re still breathing.  
  
“I promised myself I wouldn’t give my heart away again but I left a part of it open just in case. Not like I’m waiting for her but…” She breathes a wavering breath. “But I can’t keep this corpse of her memory anymore…I… can’t.”  
  
Clarke realizes she is telling her about the tattoo and palms her hand over it soothing encouragement.  
  
“Because she is back… as real as the day I met her. But I know she isn’t the same person. She wasn’t…even then towards the end—“  
  
She abruptly turns over to face the only person that has her tethered to this world. Clarke is the only person who has given her home, her loyalty, and most of all her love to Raven. So much so that when she needs a reminder that she still matters, she can look into the depths of blue and find her answer. Her soiled eyes find her depth; dirt dissolves in ocean.  
  
She is still breathing.  
  
Raven tucks her hands under her chin; “Sh-she took pieces of me every time she walked away. Almost until there was nothing left… and I let her… I watched her leave and I let her come back over and over again…”  
  
She shudders at the memory, her heart feels like its renting space inside a marrow cage; since the wild left her it never truly felt like hers. It feels transplanted—solely there for survival.  
  
“What if I hadn’t of locked my window?” Raven asks not sure if she wanted an answer or if she was asking herself.  
  
After a bit of silence Clarke answers, “Then she would have kept taking pieces.” _  
  
_ She squeezes Raven tight, “And you wouldn’t be where you are, doing what you love. You’re strong Ray, and I admire you for how far you have come. But if you hadn’t locked that window… If you let her in when it kept hurt you…I don’t think you’d be you.”  
  
Clarke rests her forehead against hers, “And I love you.”  
  
Raven sighs putting an arm over Clarke’s waist.  
  
“Just don’t kiss me again…”  
  
They both laugh and Raven nods through drying tears.

 

* * *

\-- _Two days foward--  
  
  
_

Lexa wipes tears off her face.  
  
“Oh my god Anya, stop!” She can’t stop laughing at Anya rolling around in the dirt shooting the airsoft gun they have her practicing with, yelling obscene things that are no where in the script.  
  
“I convinced you to come with me! So I have to make it worth it now, don’t I?” Anya exhales.  
  
“Sure, just don’t hurt yourself!” Lexa calls out toward the course where they set up paper targets and rolling mats.  
  
Lexa settles down on a bench close by while Anya continues her prerogative. It was a nice day. Clouds block the sun every so often while the temperature stays at an even 80 degrees. Just as a breeze hits her face she inhales deeply. The rays shining around the clouds remind her of blonde tendrils cascading a certain face. Taking another deep breath she pulls out her phone. She checks her twitter first because she hasn’t since yesterday and wonders what Clarke is doing.  
  
\---  
  
**_Notifications_** _5,667_  
  
**Anya Crewse** @AnCrew First day of Gun Training with this piece! [Anya&Lexa.IMG] **  
  
TIME.com ** @TIME Watch the new trailer for ‘The Little Prince’ _thelittleprincetrailer/time.com_ **  
  
Science News ** @ScienceNews Sun’s wild, explosive youth supplied life-supporting molecules to early Earth: _ow.ly/nl3k300zfrj_ **  
**

**Finn Collins** @FCdirect The set is looking alive! [RVsceneonset.IMG] @NiylahDash  
  
\---  
  
She realizes that she doesn’t follow Clarke so she quickly maneuvers to remedy the situation. She searches for her, clicks on her name, and shamelessly snoops her profile.  
  
\---  
  
**Clarke Griffin  
** @Griffindork  
  
_Artist- LA- Heda Co._

307 following   316 followers  
**  
** ^ retweet **Raven Reyes** @Ravengeful  
@Griffindork Thankful for this sappy siren [GuitarGriff/youtube.com.VID] #acoustic **  
  
Clarke Griffin** @Griffindork  
@RoyalViridian @MCsquared working the wardrobe- To Wanda! #friedgreentomatoes  
**  
Clarke Griffin** @Griffindork  
#Reading is the third best thing to do in bed. **  
  
Clarke Griffin ** @Griffindork  
If I ever get a duck, I’d name him What.  
#whattheduck

  
\---  
  
Lexa laughs out loud to some of her tweets and she can’t stop smiling—she clicks follow.  
  
“Yo heart eyes, what did blondie do now!?” Anya yells as she jogs from mid-course being led to start again.  
  
“Shut up!” Lexa yells back with out looking away from her phone, a grin still plastered upon her face. Her thumb excitingly taps onto the link that Raven Reyes posted. And as soon as the video player buffers she sees Clarke sitting on a bed with a guitar in her lap. Her grin immediately pulls from her face due to the slack in her jaw.  
  
Lexa’s eyes widen, Clarke is sitting on a bed with a guitar in her lap and is playing.  
_  
Holy fuck._ Her legs squeeze together.  
  
Clarke is sitting on a bed with a guitar in her lap and is playing _while_ singing. _Umph._ She unconsciously lifts the phone closer to her face as her eyebrows turn upward, her ears completely open, her core clenches, and her heart flips. Clarke’s voice holds a gravely tune, a rasp that reaches Lexa’s chest and quite literally clasps it shut from anyone else from ever getting inside. Not only does her voice carry raw emotion, the lyrics being sung are poignant.

* * *

  
  
\---  
  
“I know what will cheer you up, hang tight.” Clarke gets up from Raven’s bed and shimmies to her room. She grabs her guitar from the stand near her favorite reading chair, darts back into her best friend’s room and jumps on the bed landing on her knees.  
  
“Are you going to serenade me Griffin?” Raven sasses, excitingly propping herself up into a sitting position against her headboard. She inconspicuously grabs her phone.  
  
“I wrote this about facing fear and running toward it, so I think you need to hear it. But mostly it’s about love.” Clarke clears her throat, strums the guitar a few times to find herself and then begins a soft melody.  
  
_Each day I give pieces of me away,  
but for you I hold the largest piece on call.  
Despite supply of me and the demand they need,  
I want you to have it all.  
  
If what’s left sums up to be just this  
and only this.  
Then that’s okay,  
for the moments with you are one’s I dare not miss.  
  
As battles begin there are cold nights,  
where each man knows no home.  
I prepare my strong front ready to fight,  
against hours of lonesome roams._

* * *

 _  
  
_ \---  
  
Lexa replays the video again truly listening to the lyrics this time because the first time she watched it her attention was solely on the way Clarke moved her lips. Her mouth was mesmerizing, like how can the movement of someone’s mouth be so goddamn sexy. Suddenly she remembers Filippo and how he told her something very similar, that her mouth is what made him fall in love with her. She swallows hard.  
  
_As we rise above our blissful meet and all we wish to be,  
we forget the fall that comes right after eager to greet our feet.  
  
While the sounds of war cry out within,  
Instincts tell me run.  
I grab my heart laced in sin and charge the loaded gun.  
  
As I close my eyes from the day,  
a pillow takes your place.  
I allow the embrace of my dismay,  
while the darkness declares its space.  
  
_ The lyrics didn’t repeat and there wasn’t really a chorus but it didn’t need it. How she managed the guitar so elegantly behind her harmonic voice carried the words to fruition. The poetry was so full of pain, struggle, and courage. Lexa wonders who wrote the song and if she can find it online. While she listened she didn’t realize her jaw transitioned from slack to clench and her legs spread open as her body sunk in between. Right when the last verse rung out; she felt a lump form in her throat.  
  
_I’d fight the resistance that deems so futile,  
until my last dark draw of denial.  
Because with your light that shines in me,  
I see a path worthwhile.  
_  
She sat there speechless for so long that her phone screen went black.  
  
~  
  
Lexa sits up, leans her back flat against the bench and takes a deep breath looking up toward the sky.  
  
\---  
  
“What the fuck Clarke” Raven wipes tears from her eyes with the palms of her hands as she resists the urge to sob. Her phone falls between her legs managing to secretly record her song.  
  
Clarke wipes a single tear from her own cheek before shifting the guitar off her lap to the side. She scoots over to Raven and squeezes her shoulder.  
  
“I’m sorry, I thought it would be okay to play for you now. I thought… I really thought it would help you because it helped me to write it. Maybe—“  
  
“No Clarke. It was _perfect_ and I am so blown away. You really fucked me up is all,” Raven laughs a little through her hands.  
  
The blonde takes a deep breath of relief thinking she really messed up playing that for her at this moment.  
  
“I’ve never played that for anyone before, its not really catchy or uplifting and even though the harmony repeats at times, it’s more like a story.” She explains while her eyes defocus tapping on a memory but not daring to dive deeper in.

* * *

  
  
\---  
  
Lexa looks into the sky thinking about the way Clarke sung those lyrics and how it sounded so much like it came from within her. She felt every word her lips wrapped around and every tone her fingers struck through. She sighs into herself relating to the message. She remembers her parents up until she was eight, they were supportive in every which way. They challenged her even, gave her riddles, puzzles, and even built mazes for her to stumble through at a very young age. At first they were tactile puzzles and elementary riddles, but as she grew so did they- in complexity. She misses the way they made her think so much so that she often finds patterns between the words of her script forging secret messages that aren’t even there. Her mind reads past primary gestures and intentions going beyond what is voluntarily given. The obvious is a past thought, already understood. Lexa’s normal standard is paces ahead connecting possibilities and extrapolating theories. It’s just how her brain was built and she had her parents to thank for that. Since the day they disappeared she felt like each day was a battle in bloom. Much like the song Clarke sung, she felt like she had to face the loaded gun everyday. Maybe the next day they would show up, maybe they wouldn’t. It felt like a Russian roulette to her for the longest time.  
  
Click, they could come back.  
  
Click, they’re never coming back.  
  
Click, they never found the plane.  
  
Click, they never will.  
  
Click, they aren’t dead.  
  
Click, they’re dead.  
  
She fought the resistance and it seemed so futile. She felt so alone in those days being paraded around, told what to do, how to act and who to be. It helped her drone on. The song described a part of her so clearly she felt the song was made for her. Every night she went to sleep she would hold on to her pillow until darkness took her. She thought of them and their last moments. Did they think of her? Did they suffer? What were their last words?  
  
That kind of darkness took her. It wasn’t the absence of light it was the presence of dark.  
  
“Hey…” Anya approaches a despondent looking Lexa with concern in her voice. She doesn’t answer right way so she takes a seat next to her new friend and waits. Anya takes this time to observe that her hands are wrapped tightly around her phone in her lap. Lexa slowly refocuses her vision like she is coming back to consciousness from a distant place.  
  
“Hmm?” Lexa hums not completely removed from the depth. She clears her throat and sits up straight.  
  
Anya notices that she is becoming uncomfortable being caught in such a state. She would call it vulnerability but she looked so guarded at the same time. So she tries to save face for her and changes the subject.  
  
“So Zoe said I totally nailed the course and we can go shoot real guns now. Want to shoot assholes the shape of bullet holes into metaphorical paper villians?!” Anya bounces on the bench trying to subtly encourage a positive vibe.  
  
Lexa smiles at Anya’s demeanor, she wonders what kind of childhood Anya had and how she can be so carefree. Just by watching her bounce up and down delightfully makes her feel better. “Think you can beat the amazing Alycia Taylor, surf instructor by day and treasure hunter extraordinaire by night?” She jests.  
  
Anya beams at her playful shift and replies in kind, “Oh I think Carey Adon bimbo body guard by day and…well body guard by night can kick some Taylor ass. Bring it!”  
  
“I’ll Bring it, don’t worry. Go Toros!” Lexa cheers getting up from the bench with a bullhorn hand symbol.  
  
Anya laughs and plays a long, “Oh I never do. Go Clovers!”  
  
They both skip forward with stiff legs and clapping hands pretending to cheer on fans as they make their way toward the shooting range across the course. Lexa is really thankful for Anya in this moment. Usually when she gets so far into her head she can’t pull herself back out but as their laughter dies down she feels lighter than she should at this point. She can focus on what is in front of her rather than what isn’t.

* * *

  
  
\---  
  
“Raven! You posted that on YouTube and Twitter?!!!” Clarke screams from the living room storming for the betrayer.  
  
The brunette’s head shoots up from the project she was now working on in her room and her eyes go wide. “Oh shit,” she mumbles to herself. She quickly grabs for the best defensive weapon she can find, settling on her still hot soldering iron.  
  
Clarke has her phone out playing the video as she storms in face completely red, “What the hell Ray!”  
  
“Now hey! Don’t come any closer! This is super hot…so I’d stay back unless you want to look like Voldemort!” She jabs the iron in the air a few times to make her point.  
  
The blonde slouches her shoulders a bit but doesn’t dare step any closer, she likes her skin just the way it is.  
  
“Look Clarke, you are gorgeously talented and it’s so rare that I see you play anymore that I just…” She puts down her iron in its holder and steps closer to her. “You are amazing and I wasn’t planning on posting it after you played it but _fuck_ , with how you made me feel after you sung that song and how much it truly helped me. I figured the world deserves you as you deserve it. Music is healing Clarke and your song and your voice…” Raven feels really guilty now that she is looking at Clarke. Her face is red; her eyes unfocused and she is almost shaking. The brunette realizes that it was a risk and that she shared something really personal to her with the world. But she honestly believes it belongs out there.  
  
“Aw shit Clarke, I’m sorry…” her chin hits her chest, “It meant a lot that you shared that with me and your song really— I mean it truly struck a chord in me. I admit I shouldn’t have shared it with out asking but god Clarke, you’re song… it’ll heal people.”  
  
Clarke takes a deep breath watching herself on her phone. She doesn’t sound half bad and she looks pretty enough but it’s the principle of the thing. “Raven… I haven’t played much in front of anyone for a reason and now it’s out there for everyone to see. It’s become my catharsis, my own thing. I don’t want to share it with the world. It’s just like my paintings—those are mine. I don’t show most of them because they are meant for me, not for the pleasure of others, for me.” She shakes her head, “ I can’t help but feel a little betrayed and super exposed right now.”  
  
She moves to sit on the edge of Raven’s bed; her head slumped over her phone watching the video again.  
  
Raven moves to sit right next to her and slings an arm over her shoulders. “I’ll take it down right away but first hear me out.” She squeezes the blonde’s shoulders to get confirmation.  
  
Clarke nods.  
  
“Think, that someone is going through what you had to right now. What if they had no one and nothing to relate to, nothing to help them and possibly no way to express how they’re feeling, wouldn’t you want there to be something that could help them heal? Maybe quite possibly even move past it if they knew someone else felt the exact same way they do. And not only that but has shown that they overcame it and wrote a beautiful song to represent that courage.” Raven loosens her grip, leans back into the bed on her elbows and continues,  
  
“I know you’re mad at me and I will take that because I deserve it. I knew it was shitty but I truly believe you won’t regret leaving it out there.” Raven nudges her with her leg.  
  
The blonde rubs the back of her neck squinting down at her phone, “You really think all that?”  
  
“Of fucking course Clarke, If I was a record label I would sign the fuck out of you right now. If I was Shania Fucking Twain I would tell you ‘the best part of being a woman is the prerogative to have a little fun’ because you should share your stuff more often, you’re more talented than you give yourself credit for.”  
  
“Did you just quote Shania Twain to me?!” Clarke hits Raven’s leg in complete surprise and a little bit of disgust. But a smile finds its way on her face which doesn’t go unnoticed by Raven.  
  
“haha, you bet your ass I did but you’re dicks load better than Shania.” Raven laughs.  
  
“Eww gross Ray, I—just ew…” Clarke scrunches her face and falls back next to her best friend.  
  
“I’m still mad at you but I get what you’re saying. I would want to help someone if they ever felt even a sliver of what I did…what I still do.” She sighs, “It will never go away but it gets better.” Clarke pauses the video and looks at herself, “I look kind of sad while I’m playing.”  
  
Raven leans over to look at the paused video, “kind of… but you look more solemn than sad. It’s everything about you that makes the song Clarke. You really impressed me.”  
  
Clarke feigns shock by lifting her hand up to her chest, “ _I_ …impressed _the_ Raven Reyes?”  
  
Raven nods deliberately in response, “yes Clarke, for once yes and don’t take it lightly because I am rarely impressed.” She says with a faint undertone of sarcasm but mostly truth.  
  
The musician takes a deep breath and accepts it. She goes into her twitter account and decides to embrace it by re-tweeting Raven’s post. “Well since you already created a YouTube account in _my_ name, I’ll let it be. But don’t think you’re off the hook, you’ve got a lot of making up to do missy.” Clarke feels her tummy rumble, “Starting with dinner!”  
  
"Didn't we just have lunch?" Raven smiles a huge toothy grin at Clarke pouting and complies, “As you wish princess buttercup.”  
  
Clarke snaps her head at the nickname, “And another thing, I fucking hate being called princess. That stops right now.”  
  
The mechanic raises her hands in surrender, “Wehell! Commander Griffin it is!”  
  
She pops up off the bed to make Linner, Dunch, or supper? when Clarke throws a pillow at her back successfully knocking her forward into a quicker pace. “Just feed me!”

* * *

  
  
\---  
  
“Do you understand the rules of the range?” Zoe asks after explaining safety to Anya and Lexa.  
  
They both nod.  
  
“Okay then step up to your guns and aim true ladies!” Zoe steps back and puts her protective gear on.  
  
The actresses follow suit putting their headgear and safety glasses on. They look at each other with pure elation and pick up their guns.  
  
Lexa clicks the safety off feeling the weight of the Sig Saur P226 Nitron 9mm. The U.S. Navy Seals, Federal agents, and numerous law enforcement agencies choose this model. Which is the gun Anya and many others in the show will be using. She grips lightly on the gun but holds it steady. She takes her aim inhaling a deep breath and then exhales slowly. Lexa has handled guns before and is a decent shot. She squeezes the trigger three consecutive times before pausing to re-aim. She repeats this until all fifteen rounds of her magazine are spent, puts the safety on and watches Anya empty her clip near the bottom of her target. Lexa is positive she is pretending to shoot literal assholes into the paper man.  
  
“You’re ruthless!” Lexa says loudly.  
  
Anya doesn’t quite hear her so she clicks her safety on, steps back and lowers her headgear.  
  
“What?”  
  
Lexa laughs taking her headgear off, “I said you’re ruthless! Who ever you were pretending he was he will surely hear his ass whistle every time he steps outside.”  
  
“Fuck yeah I did, come after me and I’ll tear it up!” Anya jokes stepping over to the loading table. She grabs the extra clip and begins loading 9mm bullets into the mag.  
  
Lexa hits the button Zoe said would bring their targets in. “ Lets see who reins supreme!”  
  
The targets dash up the line swooping forward as they catch the end of the track. Lexa steps up to her silhouetted man and sees most of her targets are on point, six in the head, and five in the chest with a few strays. _Not bad!_ She looks over to Anya’s target sheet and frowns.  
  
“Anya what the hell…” Lexa walks over and grabs her sheet in shock.  
  
“You shot in the shape of a heart! How did you, where did you learn to shoot?!” She asks her eyes looking at Anya from the ground up like she is some secret ninja.  
  
Anya chuckles and shrugs, “I’ve been around guns my whole life. You can say it’s a hobby of mine.”  
  
“Is that why you wanted Carey Adon’s role?” Lexa asks still surprised at her accuracy.  
  
“Yes and the fact that I’m gay has something to do with it” Anya finishes loaded the clip and switches out the empty one inside the Sig. She promptly replaces her sheet with a new one, and sends it down the line. “So far, I have no regrets,” She puts her headgear on and yells, “Fire in the hole!”  
  
Lexa smiles at the new information. She never assumes the actors that play a role have any similarities to their characters. In this business it’s best not to assume anything at all but the fact that Anya is family practically has her beaming at the gills. It’s nice being surrounded by a community she has missed out on her whole career. Choosing to act in Royal Viridian is quickly becoming one of the best decisions she has made in her life and not just for her career but also for herself. _  
  
_ \---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raven's flashback is a personal experience of mine with my first girlfriend. I've never loved someone so thoroughly since. She stripped me raw. Even though I didn't see it then, I am thankful for it. I am so strong because of it. 
> 
> The song Clarke sings is a poem I wrote called The Battle in Bloom©. 
> 
> This chapter was a little bit heavy but the next one will be lighter, promise. To the beach bitches!


	7. In-Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on RV: Raven deals with the news of O coming back into her life like a steel knife cutting her, taking her for all she is worth like a betraying wife. Clarke soothes her with her grooves and encourages that they both improve by facing their fears, wiping away their tears and facing their demons by choice. Then Lexa listens to Clarke's voice and thinks to the past when she had parent's that didn't quite last but that doesn't matter because she is better for it, always the go-getter for it. But this blonde girl gets her wetter for it, my god she is so hot for it, and she hopes she will letter do bad things for it. 
> 
> \---  
> Authors note: Will update whenever I can. I love this story and had a huge block in my ability for a while. Hoping it flows now but just think of future updates as a random as fuck tooth-fairy. 
> 
> *sprinkle sprinkle*

** Ch. 7 In-Tensions  
  
** [ _The Paper Kites- Featherstone_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0IDiVQxZYg) **  
  
**

**5:00am _  
  
Beeep_** —  
  
Her hand reaches under her pillow to expertly shut off her alarm. Her internal clock, more efficient than the one she sets every night, woke her up before the sound. She pops out of bed with little resistance from her bones. She depends on structure, organization and efficiency. It’s the years of routine that enable her mind to focus, unwilling to venture too far from purpose. Everything beyond her schedule brought her too close to the person she didn’t want to be—or rather the person she is too afraid to face again. She used to be carefree, like the kind of careless that took her to new places with out knowing how to get back. Now she always has a plan making sure to never wander.  
  
She is scheduled for nine at Santa Monica beach but she wants to get there early to warm up and catch some waves. This gives her plenty of time for her morning run, double check her schedule, and send out a few emails that she promised her brother she would do. Although she is pedantic in her tasks, she isn’t one who sticks to formality. Bellamy would say she is a blunt bullet flying through every obstacle with total disregard of how she gets to her target. She gets things done, no doubt, but to her it didn’t matter how, just as long as the end goal is met.

  
Her goal today is to face her.

 

**  
5:30am- Trigeda Studios**

“Bryan! Load the heavy stuff in the truck first! It’s like I’m working with feral children!” Raven exhausts pulling out tent parts and prop pieces that absolutely _do not_ belong in the same truck as the tents.  
  
“And these! Put them in the second truck! We don’t need them breaking because of these ignoramus tents that some how _our team_ got stuck setting up!” She yells as she yanks tarps, metal poles, and joints out onto the concrete sending them clanking.  
  
“Chill out Raven! Alright, I’ll re-organize it once I get the rest of the stuff out here but you have to relax…” Bryan heaves. “You volunteered to do this last week remember? Something about babes on beaches!” He tries to remind her why she is up this early to set up the beach for rehearsal. Bryan puts a hand on her shoulder while his other hand stops her from pulling out another metal pole.  
  
Raven takes a deep breath and turns toward him, “Yeah… that’s before—“ she shakes her head, “I’ll go in and tell the crew to grab the rest of the stuff while you reorganize this. Tent supplies go in this one and put all materials for prop in the other.”  
  
Raven is _not_ a morning person especially not before coffee. She convinced Finn that her crew needed to be on the beach the same day as costume rehearsal to ‘test the durability of props’. He is familiar with Raven’s tact and more evidently her thirst, so he compromised with her. If she led the team on tent set up she can spend the day with them at the beach. But that was before she knew O was the new stunt coordinator and that was definitely before she ran in to Niylah who told her that O would be at the beach with them today.

  
  
_“What do you mean she is going to be there!?” Raven grabs Niylah by the shoulders.  
  
“She is the surf instructor for the actors today. What’s the big deal Ray!?” Niylah looks at her confused.  
  
Raven shakes her shoulders, “The big deal?! I—shit!” She releases her friend with a huff and storms down stairs to start loading the trucks._

  
  
The news of this was festering inside of her and she needed to be reminded that she could do this; that she wasn’t going to be alone today—alone with a half naked Octavia.  
  
\---  
  
**Graffiki**  
**  
[5:42am]** Claarrrrrkkke! Wake up, this is an Emo-gency!  
**[5:42am]** Wake

 **[5:43am]** Up  
**[5:43am]** Clarke!!!!  
**[5:43am]** Clorrrkk  
**[5:43am]** Clorkel  
**[5:43am]** CLARK!  
**[5:44am]** Graffiki I need your unwavering spiritual guidance! Code Mufasa!  
**[5:44am]** Call me ASAP bitch!

\---

  
**6:40am- Santa Monica Beach  
  
** Clarke hadn’t answered any of her texts and Raven’s been too busy coordinating incompetence to extend a call. They arrived at Santa Monica beach twenty minutes ago and she has been sitting in the drivers seat stewing much like the waves in front of her. This day was _not_ going to be her undoing and she willed it so. Gripping the steering wheel in the parking lot, she stares off into the colors beyond the shore. It was nice but she couldn’t really focus on the majesty of the California crust. Her mind was caught in a net of past folly.  
  
_“Take the poles out fir—AGH!”  
_  
**Crash, Clank, Clank  
  
** Raven shakes her head at the sounds of incapable men. She takes one last deep breathe before exiting the truck to tackle the day’s task. Thirty minutes later Raven’s team of 5 managed to dolly three tent sets onto the reserved beachfront, a feat in of itself. The sand swallowed feet and wheels as they pushed and pulled. One tent is for wardrobe, hair and make-up, another tent is for food and lounging, and the third tent is for equipment and scripting. It was an all day event that will take place well into the night. They needed to test wardrobe and make-up combos during the day and then lighting, camera angles, boat distances, and set up during the night.

  
  
**7:25am**  
  
Raven is up on a ladder securing the Trigeda tarp over the structure when she heard her crew cat calling down below.  
  
“Damn, check it out” he whistles and points toward the water for the guys to follow his line of sight.  
  
Bryan looks out seeing a stunning woman coming out of the water clad in a small bikini all James Bond style toward a surfboard sticking out of the sand. He shakes his head at the rest of the crew completely distracted from their task but continues to help Raven on the opposite end of the tent. Bryan’s cup of tea has a different taste to it but he can appreciate a goddess when he sees one. However, he knows what’s coming next so he clenches his jaw and prays for their souls.  
  
“Guys!” Raven yells out, completely regretting this venture for the third time today, “Focus you meat heads so we can actually enjoy today-“ She turns her head toward the distraction and trails off as soon as she sees her.  
  
She is glistening in the early morning sun, with tan skin, a lean body— _fuck_ —that’s when she recognizes her. She freezes on the ladder and her leg locks up causing her to wince in pain. Anger swells up within her; of course O is here extra early making her day already harder than it has to be. And these inbreeds are looking at her like… like..  
  
“ _shit_ ,” she mutters to herself before letting the anger escape with a long side her fury,  
  
“ I WILL FIRE! EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TESTICLE UNDER YOUR DICKS! IF YOU DON’T! GET BACK! TO FUCKING WORK!” Raven delivers a guttural demand that surprises even herself.  
  
Once she makes her way down the ladder, they all scatter to their respective duties. At this point she doesn’t care, she will fire these assholes; she could _really_ care less if she loses her crew today. She could find anyone to follow orders; if it weren’t for Bryan she would be rehiring new people every week.  
  
She moves to sit down on a cooler full of waters to rest her leg. _“Not today…”_ she whispers to herself while rubbing harsh lines into her muscle. Raven takes a deep breath daring to look back out toward the water and regrets it immediately. O is staring right at her when she looks, even from a distance she can recognize her body, the way her curves merge into muscle. They stare at each other, both not able to break the virtual tug that they both seem to be stuck in. Her eyes widen as her breath hitches in her throat when she notices O start to walk in her direction. _Shit Shit Shit…_ She whips her head around so fast her pony tail smacks her in the eye. _Ah!_

  
**_Ring Ring  
  
_** She jumps at the sudden sensation vibrating down her leg while rubbing the burning in her eye. “What the fuck is going on today?!” she vents to the gods. But reprieve comes in short recognizing the ringtone; she quickly grabs her phone from her overall-shorts as it sang the Harry Potter Double Trouble.  
  
_Clarke.  
  
_ She picks up and immediately retreats behind the only tent that is fully set up, hoping desperately O doesn’t continue her trajectory.  
  
“Clarke! Where are you?! When are getting here?!” Raven exclaims into the phone glancing around the tent’s corner in hysterics. Her heart is beating erratically pumping nervous blood through her body. She can’t control it, its not fucking fair.  
  
_“Whats going on?!”_ Clarke expresses her concern. Raven hasn’t used code Mufasa since the day Clarke made it up years ago only to be used under complete duress. If Raven was in a situation or hurt and needed immediate evacuation, all she had to say was Code Mufasa and Clarke would be there.

She steps around the tent looking for O again but can’t see her from where she is.  
  
_“Raven!”_  
  
“its O” her voice is low like if she speaks too loudly the girl would be summoned violently in front of her.  
  
_“Where are you!? I have to be at Santa Monica in an hour but I can meet you—”_  
  
“—That _is_ where I am! And she’s _here_ ; she’s the surf coach for today Clarke. I volunteered to help set up for some idiotic reason and the universe is determined to shit on me. Like literally Clarke!”  
  
Raven hears shuffling on the other end of the phone.  
  
\---  
  
“Okay sit tight Ray, I’m on my way now!” Clarke hangs up and proceeds to fly through getting ready with way less time than she planned, the blonde throws on her sky blue bikini, tan Levi cut offs and grabs her white V-neck before bolting out of her room. She doesn’t bother with make up as she throws her hair into a messy bun. Once she has her white Vans tied and her Ray Bans on her head she grabs her art bag, camera, and is out of the door and in her truck toward the beach in no time.

 

 **7:36 am  
  
** \--- **  
  
Clarke Griffin  
** @Griffindork  
  
_Artist- LA- Heda Co._

307 following   1, 913 followers  
  
@Ravengeful Your best friend can never stop being your best friend…They know too much  
**  
** ^ retweet **Raven Reyes** @Ravengeful  
@Griffindork Thankful for this sappy siren [GuitarGriff/youtube.com.VID] #acoustic **  
  
Clarke Griffin** @Griffindork  
@RoyalViridian @MCsquared working the wardrobe- To Wanda! #friedgreentomatoes  
  
\---  
  
Lexa has been looking at Clarke’s Twitter way more than she would ever admit to anyone and has noticed her follower count increase dramatically since their elevator conversation. She’s been running on the treadmill for the last twenty minutes and has surpassed her three-mile goal for the morning. However, she can’t get Clarke out of her head and is determined to make it five. Since she is one of her followers now, she can direct message her if she wanted to. Her phone has been lying over her script open to her account this whole time, tapping it when the screen would fade out. It’s not a big deal, she should be brave enough to send her ‘hey nice video’ or ‘fuck you too’ but she convinces herself that Clarke wouldn’t want that. That maybe she does hate her and is playing the game that Lexa obviously started and wanted. It doesn’t matter because today is the day she has been looking forward to and maybe she can redeem herself.  
  
“What would I say?” She whispers to herself.  
  
“Maybe start with a Hello”  
  
“WHAT the?!” Lexa stumbles on her treadmill careening her neck toward the open door. “ _Jesus_! Gustus!” She throws a hand over her chest.  
  
“Again, you should increase your security around the house, It took me less than a minute to find a weakness.” He says calmly standing tall and wide in the doorway.  
  
The brunette punches the emergency stop button, grabs her towel and wipes the sweat off her brow.  
  
“What are you doing here?” She asks stepping off the treadmill and right over his safety analysis. She’s never had a problem and he can break into any building no matter the security so it’s not like his statement meant much. Gustus has been her bodyguard since she was little, having worked for her parents he took her in as his personal responsibility after they disappeared.  
  
“The schedule has you at Santa Monica beach this morning. My team is required for any public event.”  
  
“ I understand, but Trigeda has their own security and the beach is closed off. I’ll be fine Gus” She knows Titus called him and has always been over protective since the incident in New York.  
  
“You are our priority. My priority is your safety, there are things—You have a private detail for a reason.” Gustus crosses his burly arms over his chest in finality.  
  
Lexa turns to grab her phone and calls Titus on her way out of her work out room towards the shower. As soon as he picks up she speaks, “ I thought we talked about this Titus, I don’t need security until after production. It’s not like last time, there is no crazy fandom here!”  
  
_“Lexa, It is a precaution and fandoms follow, the lines blur, and things get out of hand. There is never enough security and you have been picking up in popularity. I will not risk there being another New York.”  
  
_ “Most of them just wanted a picture or autograph Titus, I can handle—

  
_“You can’t! You have a hard time separating feelings from what’s important! You risk everything by being vulnerable and open to whatever happens. All it takes is one Lexa! Gustus is there to help you so let him.”  
  
_ She stands in the middle of her bathroom looking in the mirror; she yanks down her shirt to reveal a scar. “I’m more than capable of separating feelings from my duty! Despite what happened in New York, I still make appearances, I sign autographs and I take pictures. And you know why? Without them I wouldn’t be Lexa Woods. And maybe I belong to them Titus, I gave myself to them along time ago…” Her declaration started off strong but ended in a weak rebuttal. She loves her career but the fact that so many people wanted her was overwhelming. They don’t know her, not really. They just liked the idea of Lexa Woods and she felt that they deserve to meet what they created. She can’t lie though, lately she feels worn out by it all. Lost in the attention the last few roles have given her. Every day is a risk, they either loved her or hated her and she can’t focus on that fact.  
  
_“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you but you can’t let yourself be weak. Don’t let yourself be in a compromising situation if you don’t have to be. I’ve spent your whole life protecting you and Gustus feels the same way I do. We want you safe and if that means security detail pre-production until post-production then so be it.”_ _  
  
_ Using the hand that isn’t holding her cell phone, she rubs the pads of her finger over the scar just below her shoulder. She remembers the event very vividly almost in slow motion every time, even in her dreams.  
  
_“We won’t let something like that happen again Lexa…”_ Titus assures her, almost like he knows what Lexa is thinking in the silence.  
  
Lexa takes a deep breath exhaling into the receiver.  
  
_“You are special Lexa, one day you will know just how much but for now please let Gustus do his job.”_ _  
  
_ “Yeah, okay.” She relents.  
  
_“Remember what your parents used to say to you?”_ He asks in a low caring whisper.  
  
A lump in her throat forms making it hard to breathe. Of course she remembers, that’s part of the reason why she tries to meet all her fans and to do everything she can for them.  
  
_“Hod ste nou kwel…kw—“_ He tries. _  
  
_ “Oso Souda set raun ogeda. Hodnes ste nou kwelnes, hodnes ste uf” She corrects him. [We must stand together. Love is not weakness, Love is strength.]  
_  
“Yes that’s it”_ She can hear him smiling through his words, _“They loved you more than anything Lexa and they made me promise to look after you and protect you. Gus and I are your strength. Let me keep that promise, okay?”_  
  
“Sha, Titus”  
  
_“Alright good, well have fun today. You’ve always loved the beach so try to enjoy the day. I have to go, listen to Gustus.”  
  
_ The phone call ends leaving her feeling better about it but now she has to report back to Gustus before she does anything. She figured she would have at least until the end of production to have a margin of freedom. Lexa looks at herself in the mirror for a beat before turning on the shower to start the day.

  
  
**7:49am  
  
** Clarke enters the Santa Monica parking lot that’s now blocked off by Trigeda security, she flashes her ID to enter and proceeds to park in the closest spot she can find. It’s still cool outside because the sun hasn’t been up that long. They are set up at the Northeast side of the Pier. She sees two tents set up already with the third constructed and waiting on the tarp to be attached. The set is yards back from the rolling tide and positioned near the pedestrian walk way. A rollerblader glides by with headphones in, head bopping to the music and it seems as if they left the walkway open for the public. However, there is a fence and security posting up along the tent line. She puts her I.D. lanyard around her neck and scans the area before getting out. She notices Raven sitting behind a tent with her legs up to her chest. Clarke then looks to the horizon and sees a lone surfer in the distance. Figuring it’s O, she starts to get an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Not only did she leave Raven a mess, she didn’t so much as leave a goodbye or a word to Clarke. It hurts her too to see this girl back in their lives. She thought she was one of her best friends and when it all happened she couldn’t justify her feelings because she knew Raven was feeling them ten times worse. This was going to be a long day. Tension is already high and the day hasn’t even begun.  
  
“Raven! What’s going on?” Clarke jogs toward her friend.  
  
The brunette lifts her head at the sound of her name, “Oh thank fuck!” She gets up from the sand and wipes her ass off. “O is here! She isn’t suppose to be here!”  
  
“Hey hey, shh… It’ll be fine. You don’t have to talk to her today if you don’t want to. It should be on your own terms.” Clarke soothes her by putting her hands on Raven’s shoulders. “If anything—I mean if you want, I will be your buffer. I will talk to her—

 

“No! Don’t tell her I said anything Clarke!” Raven’s eyes go wide and her breathing picks up. She steps beside Clarke to look around the tent toward the tide.  
  
“She is out riding the waves; she isn’t coming over here. Look I won’t tell her anything about you, Listen… “ Clarke pulls her over further behind the tent to get her to focus. “I will intervene if she approaches you or something but only if you want me to. Like… you can signal me if you need help.”  
  
“Like another Code Mufasa?” Raven’s breathing slows.  
  
“Yeah but this needs to be something a little less conspicuous then yelling ‘Code Mufasa’ in front of everyone. Plus that’s only to be used in emergencies.” She chuckles lowering her arms to her side.  
  
“This is an emergency right?! I haven’t moved from this spot since you called!”

Clarke nods her head, “I know and I’m here little Simba.”  
  
“Ugh, she was walking towards me like a stampede, so shut up! Niylah told me she would be here and then these baboons,” her arms both point toward her crew putting the tarp over the third tent, “ can’t stop looking at her on the beach to work for once and I can’t make my heart stop beat boxing in my chest.” Raven kicks the sand as she speaks, “ She has come into my life again and is trying to turn it upside down! Why?!”  
  
“Ray… I don’t think she is deliberately trying to do that. She is probably just as nervous as you are—  
  
“Whose side are you on?!” Raven interrupts, “ I don’t give a shit if she is nervous or if her intentions are good! This is my job, my life!” She pounds on her chest at each statement, “It’s not fucking fair! I did my time! I scraped myself empty to get rid of her inside me and now…” Raven slows her tirade and lowers her torso putting her hands on her knees to breathe. “Now, I feel like it’s all compromised. That who I built myself up to be despite her is crashing down so quickly, why can’t I help that?! Why can’t I control how I feel?”  
  
Clarke puts one hand on Raven’s back, looks up at the clear sky and takes a deep breath. She doesn’t know what to say because this kind of pain is hollow. No words or encouragement can fill that void. “Well… I think it’s because it went unresolved. She left you in a wake of heartbreak and it festered jagged inside of you for so long. Now when things are shaking up it’s puncturing everything you built around it. Perhaps…” She hesitates to see if Raven is receiving her or if she should go on.  
  
“…Perhaps now you can find closure. This is facing the past, the demons we buried deep are coming out now and we promised we would face them. I’m here for you to stand by you if you need. You’re not alone here…” Clarke bends down to look into her eyes, which she doesn’t find because Raven is cinching them shut tightly.  
  
“It’ll be okay Ray…” she rubs her back,” today will be fine, I’m here and she will be by the water preoccupied all day. If you don’t want to talk to her today, you don’t have to.” She stands straight up, “Now, about that secret code call…” She grins hoping to entice a mood shift into acceptance.

Clarke continues to rub her back with one hand as the other plays at her chin in thought, “hmm can’t be cuh-caw because everyone knows _that’s_ a thing. Um, can you sneeze three times in a row? My mom used to do that and I could hear it across the house every time.”  
  
Raven stands up abruptly deciding that Clarke is right, it will be on her terms and she has back up if she needs it. “I don’t think sneezing obnoxiously will help my situation, can’t I just text you or something?” She stretches her stiff anxious body.  
  
“Ah duh, yeah that could work.” She chortles, getting her phone out of her pocket, “I have an idea. I’ll set your text tone to my Darth Vader ring tone. That way I’ll know when to come skywalking in.” Clarke smiles at her own wittiness.  
  
Raven holds in a laugh but thinks that she is eternally grateful for having a friend like Clarke Griffin. “I knew I kept you for a reason.”

  
  
**8:10am  
  
** The third tent is finally prepped, chairs are positioned, electricity is pumping, equipment stationed and the rest of the film crew has arrived. Sunny skies kiss the sand warming it up to a cozy 80 degrees and the energy is pulsing. Trailers are parked in the reserved spots up front, one for Lexa Woods and the other for Costia Villeneuve. Trigeda crew trickle the area setting up for a long day of rehearsal. The rest of the cast is directed to take refuge under the R&R tent where there are bathrooms, a juice bar, food and much more. Royal Viridian is hosting two high profile actresses while the others are break through artists, surely to get their start to fame in the show. Finn wanted Lexa and Costia because he knew that they had chemistry to work with and publicity to boot. It wasn’t lost on him that the events surrounding The Warmth of Color would influence interest in their pairing. But for the most part he wanted to grab the rest of the casting from a pool that is a tad underrated. He feels that it would give a genuine portrayal of the characters and offer a relatable cast for the underrepresented. It’s been hyped up to be the most anticipated new show of the year and is solely geared toward the LGTBQA+ community. Today gives the crew and cast a glimpse into production and every one seems to be excited. Especially when you check the hashtag RVBeachRehearsal on Twitter!  
  
\---  
  
# RVBeachRehearsal  
  
**Finn Collins** @FCdirect @RoyalViridian takes us to the beach, where we get to see some action! @CostiaVillen @LXwoods are here and queer! # RVBeachRehearsal **  
  
Monty Python ** @MCsquared These clothes aren’t only just for women @FCdirect I think this will look great on you [LowcutBeachdress.IMG] it’s in your color! @RoyalViridian # RVBeachRehearsal  
  
**Ontari Nation** @OntariNation BEACH DAY BITCHES! Can’t wait to learn how to surf! @RoyalViridian # RVBeachRehearsal  
**  
Jaspergers** @JasperJordan Can’t wait for today’s make-up rehearsal @RoyalViridian with my new line @TonDC It is waterproof and stays on all day! Tone Diva Chic is available online now!www.TonDC.com # RVBeachRehearsal  
  
**Echo Delemont** @EchoDelemont Putting my chap stick on early, pucker up babe! @OntariNation @RoyalViridian # RVBeachRehearsal  
  
**Anya Crewse** @AnCrew Lets hope we move to surfrider beach after these amateurs learn how to get it up! @LXwoods @OntariNation @EchoDelemont @FoxxSox @CostiaVillen @NateMiller @MayaVie @JohnMbege @RoyalViridian # RVBeachRehearsal  
  
**Fox** @FoxxSox @AnCrew Like you know what’s up, bet I get it up faster than you! @RoyalViridian # RVBeachRehearsal  
  
**Ontari Nation** @OntariNation @AnCrew @FoxxSox This bet is on like donkey’s kong! Tuck your money in your bikini cause you all are going down! # RVBeachRehearsal #Rivalry #ladiesthatgodown  
  
**Maya Vie** @MayaVie I am so excited to be on @RoyalViridian to represent trans everywhere! Beach day! #Transgender # RVBeachRehearsal  
  
**Costia Villeneuve** @CostiaVillen Getting ready for beach day! Send me requests today using #CostiaCameraRV and I will post a picture! XO # RVBeachRehearsal  
  
**Anya Crewse** @Ancrew @FoxxSox @OntariNation This day will be the day two girls go down at the same time. # RVBeachRehearsal  
  
\---

  
Jasper and Monty are setting up shop in the smallest tent of the three but still large in size, salon stations line one wall while room dividers and racks of clothes fill the rest. Music and incense is the first noticeable thing when walking in because Jasper insists on setting the mood in any and all rooms he occupies. Monty relents to most things Jasper wants unbeknownst to him because of a desperate crush formed way before his own prowess. It has significantly shrunk into a manageable meal he eats down everyday but it’s deep rooted nonetheless. But Monty seems to have crushes on almost everyone so Jasper pays little mind to the flirtatious nuance of Monty Green. He rolls his eyes at every python related joke made in reference to Monty’s downstairs mix up and is contented in their friendship.  
  
Jasper Jordan is the head of the make-up and hair department. The title is usually split into two key titles but Jasper being the control freak that he is can’t handle inconsistencies. He is mastering them both so no one complains.  
  
“Harper, can you start plugging things in and setting up each station how I like it before checking the ahenda.” Jasper calls out to his stylist. He silences G’s in certain words because he finds the ‘gen’ pronunciation of the letter too gauche for utterance. Some people think he just likes filling his own throat with his tongue but really he likes sounding somewhat international. Eccentric is a word heavily thrown in the air around him but he inhales it with pride and hugs his own unique aroma. If it isn’t one thing it’s another, always trying out new ways to be…well, Jasper.

The beach was filled with buzz now that everyone has arrived; the sand is hot against the soles of feet making a great excuse to run into the tide with a smile matching the sun’s enthusiasm. It’s beach day!

 

 

**8:20am**

After the tents are secure, Raven gets her beach gear out from the truck where she wedged her chair, umbrella and cooler. She brought her surfboard along to go out on the water too but now that O is here, she wasn’t sure if she wants to get in. Which festers a little anger in her that’s already hindering her in so many small ways. Her leg is acting up so she accepts the fact she won’t be out there today. Looking forward to just relaxing she looks into the cooler to take inventory. In the cooler she has a few water bottles and sodas chilling on ice, except the bottles don’t have water in them. It’s vodka, gin, and some whiskey disguised as tea. Since she is technically on the job today, she doesn’t want to take any chances that they wouldn’t be allowed.  
  
Raven settles herself in front of the R&R tent down near the shore where the tide just comes up enough to where if she stretches out her feet could feel the water. She plants her umbrella behind her chair so the shade doesn’t quite reach her yet, she wants to feel the burn of the sun for awhile, and then she takes her overalls off, her boots off, and strips down to her black bikini. The brunette looks around taking note of where every person is located. She sees Clarke talking to someone she doesn’t know, probably a script director or something, she turns to her left where she finds O in the water with four crew members wading in the water while she takes one on one toward the on coming waves. They aren’t gnarly by any means but are still good to ride for technique. This is a good way to get them up on the boards with out getting too exhausted.  Raven takes her high ponytail down letting her hair out to breathe.  
  
She keeps looking on while she adjusts it back up. She sees Jasper and Monty laughing outside of the beauty tent. Monty has some kind of Virginia Slim hanging off an Audrey Hepburn holder. He is so extra. She laughs lightly at how cute they are, her little gays. In the middle tent she sees crew techs setting up equipment with Bryan and her team. She gets along with Bryan well but when she’s working its all about business. Bonding with her crew isn’t high on her list of pertinence. But she likes Bryan, more than most people at Heda Productions but it’s mainly because he puts up with all of her shit. With a deep exhale she shimmies into her chair, no worries today. She wants to relax and forget about her crew, forget about O, and forget about it all.  
  
Remembering her cooler is right beside her, she leans over and grabs a mini Coke and takes a few big gulps to make room for some whiskey. Raven brought the vodka for Clarke just incase she gets to relax a bit or is feeling a bit adventurous on the job. She usually wouldn’t but she could tell lately the girl has been a little off. Clarke tends to ignore her own feelings to focus on everyone else’s. She would wait until her opportunities have passed just so she knows for sure other people took theirs. Even if they were strangers she would take the time to care. It was selfless but Raven thought it was stupid. Self-preservation was always her number one principle and to see her best friend distance herself from her emotions every time they wiggled their way to the surface is disheartening. Raven gets the whole head over heart thing but if you don’t take care of your heart your head would soon follow in its fate. It’s one thing to protect your heart but another to prevent it. She is preaching to the choir but hey, do as I say not as I do, right?

 

**8:30am**

Lexa lets Gustus drive her to the beach with little resistance; she sits in the back seat with her elbow on the window’s edge and her chin in her palm. She understands the precaution and she want’s to be safe, it’s just that it takes one more iota of her freedom away. She is already trapped in the framework of fame. One fact of being an actor that has dawned on Lexa early on is that she isn’t her own person—well not entirely anymore. Part of her belongs to them. They take pieces of her, of her characters and they take it to a whole new level, whether it’s fan fiction, art, or false wishes upon reality. It’s overwhelming at times so she looks forward to her independence when she has it. The moments where she can be uninfluenced and see glimpses of her true self are the most cherished. Even though she knows a lot of the rumors about her life are untrue, it’s easy to get lost in all the noise. And with this added security— this added precaution; she can’t help but feel more restricted into this pseudo-role called her life. It’s a small enough feeling to push back and still enjoy everything because she _is_ thankful. She wouldn’t change anything if she could. This is what she has always wanted, what her parents always wanted for her. The only thought right now that quells the simmering unease within her is a blue-eyed blonde haired girl. The moment her eyes dip into the blue she tastes a cool escape from the bitter heat of her exhaustive lifestyle. It’s like a breath so pure it burns before it soothes. Lexa has been looking forward to this day, even if to breath easy for a moment.

She steps out of the armored vehicle clad in a forest green bikini, an open white button up made of cotton and dark denim cut offs. Over one of her shoulders she holds an old Jansport backpack that used to belong to her dad. It’s worn on the corners and the green is faded quite a bit but she loved it.  
  
She isn’t sure how the day will play out but surfing is one of the things she is looking forward to. The lessons aren’t necessary for her but re-learning something is not above Lexa. She welcomes it actually. Surfing is something she did a lot as a teen but hasn’t had time since her career has picked up. So she can’t wait to see how she will fair today. It used to calm her so much that she would spend the whole day out in the water with out realizing. Titus would be so furious sometimes that it would be worth it to just see the vein across his forehead pop out.  
  
As Lexa rounds the car her RV assistant informs her of her trailer’s location and that she has a shower and facilities of her own. She thanks her kindly and proceeds down the beach with Gustus right behind her. Her thoughts are already focused on someone else and her shadow is an afterthought. The sand sinks under her sandals and finds its way between her toes. It’s a familiar feeling that usually brings her comfort but as of right now she feels a bubbling in her stomach. She’s nervous. Her eyes scan the sand, slowing her walk, the girl on her mind is the only thing on her radar. It would be disappointing to say the least if she wasn’t here. Just as she was about to give up her search, she spots her near the water with a camera around her neck. The blonde fits in the beach scene so well, her hair complimenting the sand as her eyes do the sky. Lexa’s long legs stride absent mindedly ahead while her attention draws over Clarke’s figure. Her eyes melt over the khaki shorts that hug her curves inviting cuteness underneath the allure. _Mmm.  
_ Clarke is taking pictures at random, or it just looks that way because she points it to the sky one second and then down close into the tide the next. Lexa’s legs keep moving past the R&R tent gaining ground toward the blonde when all she sudden she halts. She feels a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Hey!” a familiar voice breaks her from her trance. Glad for it too because she was headed straight for destruction.  
  
“Uh, Hi Anya” She flashes a smile at her, quickly glancing at Clarke once more before letting Anya lead her astray.  
  
“So before we head out to Lincoln for warm up, Lets—“ She pauses mid sentence noticing a very large man in a solid black suite dredging behind her. “Lexa…” She whispers, “There is a very large City of Angels man following you…Like if Nicholas Cage ate another Nicholas Cage, and that Nicolas Cage grew up with gorillas, that would be him…” Just as she was about to call him out to stop following so close, Lexa laughs.  
  
“hahaha, Anya, that’s just Gustus, Chil au. He’s my PG.” She waves her hand behind her like it’s nothing. Anya nods putting an arm around her but offers one last glance behind them before she continues. Gustus slows his walk allowing them to wander a bit ahead almost like he was commanded.  
  
“So as I was saying… lets make a game plan!”  
  
Lexa pulls away from her arm, its too hot outside already and she’s uncomfortable with the glint in Anya’s eye. She doesn’t like when people touch her that much let alone trap her under their arm. “A what?” she asks while politely shrugging her off.  
  
“A game plan Lexa!” she nudges her with her elbow and tilts her head down the beach.  
  
She was getting used to Anya’s personality, slowly, but she likes her outgoing nature. Maybe it will help her get out of this carousel of routine she has going on. So she careens her neck in tandem to Anya’s gaze.  
  
“I know you really like her,” she comments.  
  
Lexa doesn’t realize she is smiling until she jerks her head in reaction, “I—“  
  
“So here is the plan my stan,” she cuts her off and Lexa scoffs under her breath, “You need to try a different approach. Like all these run-ins and bam slams aren’t going to get the girl. Obviously chemistry is there but—“  
  
Anya rants on as Lexa turns her head to watch Clarke walk further down the beach toward a table full of lenses and supplies. They _do_ have chemistry but it’s not as easy as having a plan. This girl is different; she makes her feel different. It’s almost uncontrollable and perhaps that’s her fault, trying too hard to control it. The last thing Clarke said to her was ‘fuck you’. Maybe she deserved it, but it didn’t seem harsh or definitive. But it’s not exactly something that encourages further advances and the more Lexa listens to Anya’s game plan she can’t help but feel nauseous. She should focus on training and the show right now instead of this girl that burns her from the inside out. More afraid of the idea of her than the actual girl herself, she bites her bottom lip in anxious abandon. She changed her mind, no worries; today will just be about work. All she has to go on are the strange encounters they’ve had. Which she herself can’t really explain; why can’t they just talk like normal people?  
  
“—So I think that we can do like an inception type thing where you are Cobb and she is totally Mal. And you would plant this idea in her head, like a seed, and that’s what we will do today. So then all we—well you,” She nudges into Lexa and continues with exaggerated hand gestures,” all you would have to do is water it every other day. And soon enough you will have a plant growing inside her to where you can pick the fruit without asking, well you’d want to ask because that’s just polite but it would technically be your fruit since you planted the damn thing and she won’t be able to get you off her mind…”

  
At this point Lexa isn’t really following because it sounds awfully a lot like getting her pregnant and also the story of inception didn’t end very well for the couple in the movie, so she decides to interject, “Anya”  
  
“…Because once that person thinks that they came up with the idea that was really yours to begin with, they will believe in it _so_ much more…”  
  
Anya isn’t looking at her because she has inceptioned her own damn mind with her seed of an idea and can’t shut up because it was like she was watering her own seed in her head that wouldn’t stop growing and its all spiraling into a paradox of bad metaphors and weird gesturing.  
  
“Anya!” Lexa tries again but this time she reaches out to lightly punch her.  
  
“Lexa! I know you don’t date much but come on, when does a connection like this come along in life?” She says exasperated, punching Lexa back twice as hard.  
  
“Ow…” The brunette rubs her arm while truly contemplating her question. She looks toward Clarke down the beach. _Not often at all… if ever because this connection is weird._ It’s like her blood heats up when she is around her making her skin lurch forward like it found the source of energy it needs. Lexa thinks she should be afraid of such a force but she isn’t. Something about it comforts her beyond that of which she has ever felt.

 

When Clarke sees Lexa dressed in beach gear her eyes automatically veer down to her golden limbs. Her camera sits inches away from her face masking her indulgence. She has yet to see Lexa with this much skin exposed and boy did it send pulses down her torso into her— _ahh no, this is not happening_. She pushes her legs together to stop the tiny heartbeat. It’s not fair to feel these things without control, how can one’s feelings be so involuntary. But one thing Clarke Griffin is sure of, is that she is stubborn and in control of her mind. Her heart has betrayed her once or twice before but her mind has always been on her side. _Focus on work today and be there for Raven._ She scolds her heart while she wills her legs to point away from the infuriating distraction.

She continues taking pictures of the beach for later reference. Sketching landscapes is one of her favorite things so the fact that they are outdoors right now helps her focus even more on her surroundings. Photography has always been a close second to painting and drawing because she enjoys capturing moments in time with the click of a button. Clarke is really good at it but her preferred creative outlet is more hands-on. She notices Lexa and Anya talking a bit down the shore and she decides to sneak a few candid shots of them, you know… for reference. As she adjusts the aperture and zooms in a bit she looks back through the lens and captures a few more before she notices Lexa look her way, **_Click._**

Feeling the heat lift from her core to her cheeks, she turns quickly to focus on Finn talking out loud a few yards away. He’s talking mostly to his camera director but she _is_ supposed to be listening, taking mental notes of camera angles and shots they agree on. But she figures that the pictures she is taking will help her out so she doesn’t feel too bad for zoning. The beach wind hits her face. She feels tiny bits of sand whip along with it causing her to close her eyes. It’s one of her favorite things to stand on a beach with her bare toes tugging at sand, cool salty air hitting her face, and the promise the vastness of the ocean seems to give off. There is so much more out there and there are things bigger than her that put her problems into perspective. Everything is temporary. Clarke misses the feeling of assurance that she gives herself. Ever since meeting Lexa she is unsure about everything, her thoughts are clouded and full of confused feelings. Her heart pushes and pulls against itself joisting against her tolerant logic. It’s disconcerting for her to feel out of control, it scares her and all she wants is to go back to the way it was. She picks up her sketch pad to capture some of what Finn was saying when she is jolted out of her thoughts feeling a sand grained arm reach over her sketchpad.  
  
“I found this and thought you might like it” Lexa delivers a small smile while looking at her in the eye. Her voice is lost on her because this girl is gorgeous. Her green eyes stand out way more out here in the daylight. Clarke can’t help but look down at her lips but before she could say anything, Lexa is running off. Clarke’s eyes follow her as she meets Anya down the way and then they take off in a light jog giggling, past Raven, and towards the rest of the cast where they are preparing to work out and practice getting up on their boards. She sees a very muscular guy talking enthusiastically to a few that are gathered around him while the others make their way onto the yoga mats he provided. And then she sees O walking out of the ocean to join them.  
  
Clarke hasn’t noticed what Lexa has given her yet. Frankly, she is a little taken aback from the whole ordeal. She doesn’t even notice the creeping smile that emerges onto her face but Finn does. He saw the whole interaction. He sends his director back to the tents and observes Clarke’s blush radiate down to her neck. He continues to watch her as she looks down to find a sand dollar resting on the sketchpad. She picks it up and brushes her thumb over the floral looking design wiping off a few pieces of sand. It’s not a complete sand dollar, it has a chip in it but it’s nostalgic for her. _Why did she think I would like this…_ She touches it fondly remembering her dad teaching her how to find them in the muddy sand. The comfort in it brings her joy at first but then an empty concern perches on her heart. She doesn’t understand why Lexa and her dad keep paralleling. Wincing at the burning feeling in her chest, she puts the sand dollar in her pocket and looks up to meet brown eyes staring at her.  
  
“Oh. I’m sorry, I’ve been listening…” She offers half-heartedly because she knows she hasn’t. Clarke’s been distracted all day thinking about Raven facing her past and of her feelings she wishes would go away. How can O just show up out of nowhere and then Lexa worm her way into the book of Clarke’s mind? It’s nothing short of two universes converging into her current reality, only to look out one day and find it’s all so different. It is all upside down.    
  
Finn smirks at her distant gaze but doesn’t say anything, “So I was just saying we could shoot a few scenes from there—“ He points near a life guard house, “— and then when Alycia anchors her boat out there to night swim we will have a few vantage points from her boat, under water and then here. Can you draw up some night shots of her boat lit up and of her diving under water with a glow light? Read through the part where she clears her mind by night swimming and sketch whatever comes to mind. I get great shot ideas from your sketches Clarke.”  
  
“Of course.” Clarke replies looking toward the ocean and subconsciously turning her head toward the cast working out. She can’t for the life of her focus.  
  
“Alrighty, I’m going to go talk to Monty and Jas. I’d like to you to take a lot of pictures today and we can go through them later to post on the website.” He tells her with a smile. Finn walks by her cupping his hand against her shoulder a few quick times before setting foot toward the furthest tent. She just nods at him still caught up in herself. _Right_ , _Get to work._ She nods.

 

  
**9:00am**

Anya and Lexa slow down once they reach the rest of the cast about to warm up.  
  
“I can’t believe I did that!” Lexa says a little out of breath but not because of physical exertion. “You don’t think it was a little…” The brunette rubs the back of her neck, “I don’t know…lame?”  
  
Anya shakes her head, “No _stupid_ , I think it was sweet and how else are you going to show her you care for her as a person and not a piece of ass!” she says with a laugh.  
  
Lexa furrows her eyebrows, “I never thought of her as a piece of ass…” she says a little dejected hoping that she hasn’t come across that way to Clarke, even though she is sure she has. _Ugh._ She turns to look back toward Clarke only to find her looking in their direction. She quickly turns back around with burning cheeks.  
  
“Then phase one is complete, the seed has been planted! So now we can start on phase two!”  
  
Lexa groans and is about to protest before she is interrupted.  
  
“All right! For those of you who aren’t on a regimen with me, my name is Lincoln. I will be your nutrition guide and trainer during production. Before the heat of the day begins I would like to get all of you warmed up and ready for the day. For those who are participating in the surf lesson, this is for you to warm up your muscles so you don’t pull anything in the water. And then after I’m done, Octavia here will show you how to get up on your boards.”  
  
Lincoln leads them into a series of exercises and stretches. A black hat covers his baldhead with Royal Viridian stitched across the front covering his sharp angled brow. Most of the sunrays absorb into his dark skin, leaving sheen that highlight his muscular physique. His tall stature hovers in front of ten actors, four of which he has been seeing for a month. The show wants a certain body image—I mean it _is_ Los Angeles. Lexa and Anya are the most in shape but need more muscle; Costia and Echo are thin but need tonality. There is always room for improvement and to ensure they stay fit for the show, Lincoln is hired on as their dietitian. He’s been a trainer for years but since he graduated with a dietetic nutrition degree he became much more. Octavia helped him get into the industry and since then he’s been the go-to-guy for fit celebs.

 

Once Octavia is satisfied with their land technique on the boards, rash guards are handed out to each cast member save for Lexa and Anya who have their own. Excitement resonates between them to get in the water; the waves are big enough to catch but small enough to thwart any real threat of injury. Octavia starts with those who haven’t surfed before while Anya and Lexa catch wave after wave. Anya is pretty good and keeps up with Lexa without much effort. Octavia watches them for a bit while the others struggle and is glad she doesn’t have to teach them much at all. More like, she can let them be while focusing on Costia, Maya, Fox and Nathan. Echo and Ontari are experienced but need a few guiding pointers to get up consecutively. It wasn’t as bad as Octavia was expecting, they all do well except for Costia. She acts more like a damsel than someone eager to learn.  
  
“I still can’t really get up right, I guess…can you show me again?” Costia requests from in the water her arms stretched over her soft board. Octavia is patient but she can’t help but think Costia is doing this on purpose. Some girls do that thing where they ask for help in order to create a bond, where the suitor would feel accomplished for being needed and useful. This kind of flirtation is a bit elementary but it works for some people.  
  
Octavia sits on her board beyond the break far out from shore a meter from Costia. Echo and Ontari are near shore having rode a wave in while Lexa and Anya are riding further down the beach with a few tricks thrown in.  
  
“Yeah sure Costia, try to get up and stand on your surfboard as soon as the wave catches you. If you leave it too long, when you decide to stand up, you will probably only get to your knees or nose dive. Get up as soon as possible and start off by crouching low. So, watch me okay?” She gives direction before paddling forward to catch a small wave.

  
She executes it perfectly before paddling back to Costia.  
  
“You make it look so good” she straddles her board and leans forward on the palms of her hands. Her arms allow a small window for her breasts to peek through inconspicuously. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Octavia but she keeps her stoicism with ease.  
  
She coaches on, “It takes practice Costia, we just need to get you up a few times for this next episode and progress from there just like your character would. Finn wants it to be a genuine progression, so try one more time and we will call it a day.”

 

  
  
After sticking with the group for a bit of the lesson, Lexa and Anya ventured further down to do their own thing. Clarke has been acutely aware of Lexa’s whereabouts through out the morning. When they split from the group to surf closer to where she’s been taking behind the scenes photos, she tried really hard to not point her camera their way. But resistance is futile. She looks through her lens just as Lexa catches a wave, “ _Wow_ ” she whispers with out realizing. Clarke takes quick consecutive captures, catching her in an aerial before lowering her camera to look at how they turned out. The digital screen is hard to see in the light, so she cups her hand around it to see if her settings accommodated the beauty before her. And it had, she took in her bottom lip as she flipped through each photo. By the time she was done skimming through the fifteen she took of just Lexa, her lip is a solid red. She looks back up towards the brunette in the water and the sun has full vantage point on her skin. Clarke raises her camera up again and zooms in to capture the way the water glistens off her face. Anya isn’t as fluid as Lexa on the waves but she has skill too. She takes a few shots of her carving a wave before turning her lens back toward Lexa. Her large lens allows her to zoom in fairly close to her face, getting the color of her eye and the white of her teeth. Clarke thinks that if she were in charge of a surf magazine, she would definitely choose Lexa as the cover. It’s uncanny how natural she looks out there, bronze skin, eyes like the earth’s lush and her smile that mimics a perfect beach break. Maybe Raven was right. She lowers her camera to view her with a naked eye as she thinks about her tendencies. Pushing people away is easier than discovering that they weren’t worth the time after all. Even as a friendship Clarke finds it hard to enjoy most people. She never needed the company of others to feel valid but it doesn’t mean she didn’t desire good company. It’s just that many people she encounters have damaged character, absent principles and little to no drive in life. She limited those spaces close to her for those that made her better. And now, as she stares off into the distance like her eyes were trained to find her, she wants to be better. She isn’t sure in what sense but thinking about the girl, seeing her and being near her has turned this stagnant tide within her into a roaring roll of a sea. Maybe Raven is right.

  
  
“I think that our plan is working.” Anya comments straddling her board. Lexa paddles near her to relax just the same.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Clarke’s been looking over here for the last fifteen minutes and I am pretty sure she took a lot of photos” she chuckles.  
  
The brunette steadies herself on her board and wipes her hair out from her face before she turns toward the beach. Clarke is in fact, looking toward them. There is no one else near the area and it doesn’t even faze her that they have caught her in the act. Lexa’s lips turn up from one corner as she looks onward.  
  
“The seed has indeed been planted” Anya says maniacally, wringing her fingers together as if she is a master villain. “Muahahaha” she boasts rising her clawed hands to the sky.  
  
Lexa rolls her eyes at her friend’s antics; “Seriously?” she can’t help but snigger at her. She scoops up some water splashing Anya in the face to subdue her insanity but she quickly turns her attention back to Clarke who is still standing like she is in a daze.  
  
“You should ride a wave in and talk to her!”  
  
“And what would I say? _‘Hi I saw you staring at me, wassup’_ ” She spouts incredulously.  
  
“Whatever, just start building on it. You don’t have to say anything but hello and I’m sure she will swoon. Don’t be a limp noodle Lexa…honestly, if you don’t go then I will. She is damn sexy!” Anya begins to paddle slowly forward to grab a wave but Lexa is quick to act, like if she doesn’t her friend just might ruin her chances. “Like hell you will!” Lexa yells over her shoulder as she catches the next wave.

  
Clarke doesn’t notice Lexa approaching until she is already walking up with her board under her arm. She was definitely too far in her head but she sees her now. _Shit, uhh._ Clarke fidgets as the gap is closing, her hands find her camera and suddenly it’s the most interesting thing on the planet. Her feet take tentative steps backwards as if she is absent-mindedly doddling—absolutely. She’s just taking pictures. She adjusts her camera before she raises it up to her face away from Lexa like she doesn’t even notice her.  
  
Lexa is a few feet away from the blonde but she has yet to acknowledge her so she slows down. _Maybe this is a bad idea._ She unstraps her leash from her ankle and rests her board in the sand sticking it straight up. Unsure of herself she shifts on her feet.  
  
Clarke feels her close by, like an undercurrent of heat that undermines the sun. Her mouth runs dry as she takes a few shots of Octavia and Costia still in the water far in the distance. She can’t ignore her presence—that would be rude, so she lowers her camera to view the shots she just took while turning away from the sun. This puts her front facing Lexa who happens to be taking off her rash guard now. _Fuck me…damnit_. She curses under her breath as she watched on. She can’t help it; her eyes will not adjust themselves, they refuse to blink even at the sight in front of her. Lexa’s stomach is toned and clenches the droplets of water into the underlying abdominals as she breathes. She is sharp in some areas and completely supple in others. I mean who has all that muscle while still being slender and at the same time sport such curvaceous-ness that even the dunes of the Sahara would have envy.  
  
The surfer feels blue eyes on her but she doesn’t want to scare her away. She does have a tendency to run. So she pretends to not notice right away. Lexa slings her wet clothing over her board and then slowly turns her attention, “Get anything good?”  
  
She feels that this would be safe question to ask because she is taking pictures and at the same time it sounds safely flirtatious. Safe. Lexa gives herself internal kudos.  
  
The photographer pauses in her feeble attempt to scan through her photos, she had to answer. They are the only two on this side of the beach. Her throat is dry but she can speak. She _can_. Clarke’s mind struggles to find a verbal response so she just nods. _Damnit, what are you mute?!_ She scolds herself for being this way. _Just talk to her!  
  
_ “I actually got some really good shots of you surfing. You are quite good.” _There, that wasn’t so hard._  
  
Lexa smiles at the compliment, perhaps too wide because she looks like a giddy fool.  
“Thank you, Clarke… May I see?” she quickly recovers by gathering her wet hair over her right shoulder so it wouldn’t drip on the blonde if she let get close. While waiting for a response, her eyebrows nit together as her hands recede to behind her back in a submissive pose. She hopes that her presence is welcome.  
  
“Sure” Clarke says. Then she realizes that they have to get really close in order for her to see the photos she took. Lexa slowly steps closer to her. The camera strap is around her neck and Lexa is wet so she can’t just hand over the camera for her to see herself. It’s too late anyway; Lexa is already by her side like the first day they met peering over her shoulder. Her wet thighs touch the backside of Clarke’s shorts and her arm ever so slightly brushes the back of hers, sharing the cool water dew. It feels really good in contrast to her heat.  
  
“Um…” Clarke starts to click left to find her favorite shots she got her. “Let me find my fav—the best ones…” She bites her lip at the almost admission. She is sure Lexa heard her but the surfer just hums in understanding. The smell of the girl behind her is really distracting. It definitely has a beach water tinge but that musk still permeates through. Her finger pauses on the button trying to focus. Clarke’s legs inch closer together, “You’re distracting me,” barely whispers. _Um, shit._ “I mean, I think you’re getting me all wet” She steps forward to look at her shorts before realizing how bad that sounded. “Shit, I mean you’re dripping still and I think...” Clarke wipes across her leg but has completely turned red by the way Lexa is looking at her. Her khaki shorts are a few shades darker over her right butt cheek but her eyes are wincing up toward Lexa’s expression.  
  
Clarke sees her plump lips grow thin as she tries desperately to suppress a laugh. Her eyes smile at the blonde’s obvious struggle to say a decent sentence. Too cute and too much to hold in any longer, Lexa busts into a light fit of laughter that causes Clarke to freeze in place. Her laugh is adorable and rambunctious at the same time. The sound alone makes her tingle inside, so much so that she can’t help but smile and laugh a little herself.  
  
“Shut up, ass!” she breathes shoving Lexa’s shoulder with little success in off setting her amusement.    
  
With the ice officially broken they both laugh at each other for a beat before they exchange small sighs. The sun has been doing more of its fair share of duties today by illustriously highlighting already glorious features of these two women. Lexa admires Clarke in the silence that now resides between them. It isn’t uncomfortable though. Her eyes are so blue sitting beside her rosy cheeks. “ _Clarke_ …” she reaches out with a whisper but swallows it as her lips barely move. She doesn’t know what she wanted to say but the energy she feels in this moment is immeasurable. Lexa wonders if she feels it too.  
  
Clarke feels something but she isn’t sure what it is. It’s a charge in her bones, a flutter of muscle, and buzz in her head. Time seems to stretch the seconds into minutes. Feeling her bones begin to rattle she fears Lexa can hear them. She hums to calm herself down because she starts to doubt the structure of her own skeleton. The once broken ice seems to be melding back into solid from Clarke’s rigidity. Not sure of what to do, she clears her throat, grasps her camera, and once again attempts to find the best photos of the surfer. “Still want to check yourself out?” She recovers. Clarke turns her back to lean into Lexa’s front.  
  
“Only if you do,” Lexa says softly as her nose takes in her scent. Being this close is always surreal. Like she never has enough time in the space before it’s gone.  
  
At that Clarke turns to look at Lexa’s face, inches from her own. _I do._ She wants to say but she doesn’t so she just bites her lip and hums again. She watches Lexa’s eyes wander down to her lips. The space in between them turns from inches to centimeters before she realizes where they are. Clarke turns her attention back to her camera and continues her mission. _This girl… god._  
  
“I think this one is the best one” she steadies her wavering voice.  
  
The brunette leans closer to Clarke as the blonde cups the screen to limit the light. Lexa moves to cup her hand over the screen adjacent to hers so she can see the picture better. The picture is of her in an aerial with the spray of the wave framing underneath her. The quality is great; she can see the crispness of the wave and the concentration on her face. It’s a really great picture actually. She brushes her fingers over Clarke’s while she studies the image. The blonde doesn’t move her hand so neither does Lexa. Their bodies sink further into one another subconsciously to where Lexa is practically holding the camera around Clarke; all she would have to do it bring her left arm around. But again, she doesn’t want her to run so she leaves it open.  
  
“Can I see more?” she asks without looking up from the screen in a soft voice as to not startle the moment into a fleeting one.  
  
“Sure” Clarke takes a shallow breath before clicking to the next photo, which is Lexa landing the aerial. Then to the next one where Anya is paddling onto a wave, then one where she rides the wave. She hesitantly clicks to the next one because she knows it’s a close up of Lexa. Before she can click to the next one Lexa brings her left hand between their bodies to stop her. She didn’t want to use her right hand because it’s so delicately placed over Clarke’s at the moment and she doesn’t dare move it. It feels too good. She stares at the photo, the lighting is perfect and she genuinely looks happy. The hand that has stopped Clarke from clicking over is resting on top so now both of their hands are touching. The Camera supported only by the strap around her neck as it lay perched on top her breasts along with their hands. Lexa slowly looks up from the screen to Clarke’s heaving chest. She is breathing harder now that she has been exposed. Well at least she feels that way. Clarke can hide under the guise of taking photos for Royal Viridian but the focus in which these photos are taken reveal a little more than what she wishes to show. Still touching, Lexa’s eyes seek upward to her neck that is straining to keep up with her breaths, her eyes skip to her lips from the movement of them parting to accommodate, then to her nose sitting sharply poignant, and finally to her eyes. Her eyes are hooded and beryl staring back into hers.  
  
Lexa licks her lips and says one word, “Beautiful.” It comes out at a whisper but they’re close enough that Clarke hears her loud and clear. She isn’t sure if she is talking about the photo or her but she finds herself strongly hoping for the latter because the way she is looking at her right now is like lightening finding ground. Like she is what garners the light, not willing to look away in fear that the dark would consume her. It takes very wet arms slung over both girls to draw them out of the storm.  
  
“What are we looking at?!” An over zealous Anya asks. She noticed their proximity and decided that it was time for phase 2.  
  
“Anya!” Lexa defends, shoving her off from behind them. She delivers an icy glare to her rude interrupting friend.  
  
“I’m sure you two could use some cooling off!” she laughs. “It’s just water!”  
  
“She was just showing me some great photos, take a look at the ones she took of you.” Lexa tries to distract her embarrassing friend with her vanity so she doesn’t try to any more ludicrous phases.  
  
Clarke smiles and obliges by clicking back to the shots she got of the dirty blonde surfer. She tucks a few strands of loose hair behind her ear as she pulls the camera as far as it can go with being strapped to her neck toward Anya who is wedging her way in between them. Anya bends down to see it in front of Lexa who steals a glance to the blonde wishing they were by themselves again. Clarke meets her gaze momentarily before she snaps her attention to what Anya is viewing.  
  
“Dang, I actually look like a surfer! Good shots Clarke!” Anya pats her on the shoulder. “Got any of Lexa? She had a few gnarly tricks out there.”  
  
“Um, yeah.” She clicks over to her favorite ones.  
  
“Shit yeah! Can you send us these?!”  
  
“Uh, sure. Yeah, I’ll be posting these behind the scenes photos on the RV website. Finn wants me to document everything. But I can email the ones of you guys to your email.” Clarke suggests.  
  
“Yeah for sure, send them to Lexa’s email. Do you have your phone on you?”  
  
Clarke takes her phone out of her front pocket, “yeah?”  
  
“Great!” Anya confidently snatches the phone from Clarke’s hands, “I’ll just put her information in here so you can send them our way. Oh, what’s your passcode?”  
  
Lexa is standing a bit behind Anya watching all of this happen. She stares at Anya like she is butt fucking crazy. Clarke doesn’t seem to mind at all taking her phone back from Anya to enter her passcode in before handing it back to her.  
  
“Cool” Anya proceeds to enter Lexa’s email, phone number, address and every detailed information the iPhone would let her. She sends Lexa a text from Clarke’s phone and deletes the conversation before handing it back to the blonde. “Done, it’s saved under Lexacoon. Don’t forget because I want those photos!”  
  
“Sure” Clarke replies looking at her new added contact in her phone.  
  
“Thanks Clarke! We got to go work out with Lincoln before we hit the showers.” She drags Lexa away to her board, grabs her own board, and guides her back down the beach to their work out mats. “Bye!”  
  
Lexa struggles against the ever persistent Anya and manages to mouth a goodbye with a small wave, in which Clarke returns.  
  
“Anya, what the hell was that about?” Lexa asks a bit annoyed once they are out of earshot.  
  
“Relax! Now you have her number and she has yours. Phase 2, remember?” Anya pushes her by the side of her face.  
  
“Ah, Stop that! You are like the sister I never wanted,” Lexa complains, wiping her face with angst. “Wait, how do I have her number?”  
  
“I texted you from her phone.”  
  
Lexa pauses her stride before skipping to catch up, “What?! She will see that you did that you know?”  
  
Anya scoffs like she isn’t an amateur, “Not if I deleted the conversation before handing it back to her!”  
  
Lexa shakes her head but feels a smile creep onto her face. Anya was brash and bold but she was a smart cookie. Now Clarke has her number and she has hers. It’s not like she will use it but it sure feels good to have the option to if she were ever brave enough. What would she say? _Eeek! How exciting!_ These phases aren’t so ludicrous after all.  
  
“Aw look at you! Blushing and being all shy girl…”  
  
Lexa immediately straightens her body and stiffens her face, “Whatever.” She mutters behind the smile that won’t fucking go away.

  
  
**12:30pm**

The day proceeds with O successfully getting each person on a few waves while Lincoln stands by to cool down the team. He scheduled a work out for Lexa, Anya and Echo after their surf so they wouldn’t miss out on their regimen. The work out is tough but they are used to it by now. They have about an hour before they are due in the beauty tent so they mingle a bit before they have to take a shower.

Anya stands upwind talking to Maya, Nathan and Echo when she notices a brunette girl sitting uncomfortably in her chair looking very intently down wind. She looks up to see Octavia and Lincoln laughing yards away then looks back down to the girl. It’s obvious that they are bothering her so Anya does the only thing that she can think of to help her. Bending down she picks up a hand full of sand, stands on her tiptoes and throws the sand into the wind. The sand flies over Raven’s head, who is still very obviously glaring, and into the faces of the brunette’s contention.  
  
“Ahh!” Octavia turns, yielding their laughter as she bends over to shield her eyes with the back of her hand. The sand hits Lincoln just the same as he takes a few steps away trying to avoid anymore that could hinder his vision. They end up separating with Octavia stepping toward the R&R tent for a rinse.  
  
Raven burrows her eyebrows in confusion; she didn’t feel any sand hit her so she turns to look around. She finds a gorgeous blonde looking at her with a smile; they stare into each other’s eyes for a beat before the mystery girl winks and turns back to pay attention to her previous conversation. She finds herself smiling at whatever that just was. _Did she throw sand?_ Perhaps she did but why would she do that? Raven lowers her sunglasses to see her wearing a maroon bikini with black Levi jean shorts. She unconsciously bites her lip as she looks from her ombre like hair flowing in the wind down to her shoulder blades that stick out with the perfect amount of aggression, down to her long legs that flex right before her eyes. She notices how the muscles fight each other for dominance, how they look turning in their place and how they look walking towards her.  
  
“ _Shit”_ she mutters to herself as she realizes that Anya was walking over to her. She releases her lip she didn’t realize she was holding in her mouth.  
  
“Hey” Anya offers a soft greeting with a grin.  
  
“H—hi, whats up?” Raven straightens up in her chair causing it to creak. Her hands suddenly acutely aware of their existence as she fumbles to grab a drink or something, anything! She finds her whiskey Coke and takes a few huge gulps.  
  
“What’re you drinking?”  
  
“Um, Coke…” she lifts the bottle to show the label like it’s just what the label says it is.  
  
“May I have some?” Anya can smell more than just Coke on the brunette’s breath and it only makes her move closer.  
  
“Uh…” Raven looks at the bottle and then back up to a chiseled cheek bones and a smirk. “Sure but be careful of the _carbonation_ , it could be a little _strong_.” She remarks gaining a tad bit of composure. If she knew any better this girl was flirting with her because she knows for a fact that there are plenty of cold drinks and food in the R &R tent right behind her but yet she came to ask for the one drink that she is putting her lips on. Let alone, the whole sand thing, Raven knew when a girl was hitting on her.  
  
Anya slowly takes the Coke bottle from her while observing the thoughts flit across the brunette’s face. The expressions that Anya can see roll around in her eyes make her smile. Taking the bottle from her lithe fingers she brings it up to her nose and smells it.  
  
“Smells super _carbonated_.” She jests with a full smile now adorning her face. She tilts it back taking a huge gulp with out reservation.  
  
Raven swallows heavily at the sight of Anya’s bobbing throat and the idea of warm whiskey coating its insides. She shakes her head at the indulgent thought because she would be looking back at her again soon and she really needs to focus keeping her mouth closed.  
  
“Y—you can go ahead and polish it off if you want, I have more.” Raven offers.  
  
Anya smiles again, deciding to sit down next to her on the sand, and tilts the bottle back finishing the rest of the whiskey and Coke. She hands Raven the empty bottle while wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. The brunette takes the bottle from her with a smile in return and turns around to dig out another Coke. She puts the empty one in between her legs opening the fresh Coke to split it between the two. After spilling a little bit on her thigh she moves on to grab the water bottle with the whiskey in it to fill both Coke bottles until they are full again. The water bottle full of whiskey is almost empty so she decides to finish it straight, taking a swig she clicks her tongue and passes it off down to Anya who is a few heads shorter than her being on the ground. Anya takes it without a word and takes the rest in one gulp.  
  
“Guhh, that isn’t as smooth as I thought it was going to be.” Anya winces, handing the water bottle forcibly back hitting Raven’s shoulder with it.

“Anya!”  
  
Her face perks up at the sound of her name. Lexa is calling down the beach waving her hand for her to come over.  
  
“Well that’s me. I better go see what she wants. But before I go, what’s your name?” She asks before standing up.  
  
“Raven”  
  
She inwardly berates herself for being so uncool around this girl. It’s uncharacteristic of her usual confidence.

“Thanks for the carbonation Raven. See you around.”  
  
She uses the armrest of Raven’s chair to help herself get up jutting her chest out for Raven to see. After assuring that she has Raven’s attention, she turns her body to dust the sand off her ass. Grinning because the day had something to offer her as well as Lexa, she runs off to where Lexa is waiting.

“Hey who was that?” Lexa asks eyeing her friend’s glinting smile.

  
“I don’t know really, but her name is Raven.” Anya replies trying to hide the inching smile on her face. “What’s up?”  
  
Lexa smiles taking one more last look over her shoulder toward the girl that has managed to change Anya’s complexion rose. She wants to tease her and meddle just like she has in her situation but she decides to wait.

“Uhh, I want to go back out and surf, the wind has picked up and Echo wants to see how it’s done.” She nudges her shoulder into Anya’s, “you in?”

 

Finn makes his way to the beauty tent, mind in deep thought. He is thinking about natural development and capturing the growth of reality on camera. Finn wants this show to be so real and raw that the audience blurs the lines of script and reality. It’s up to the actors to feel the part but he ultimately has to create an environment for that to bloom, for it to nourish into something beautiful and something worth watching.  
  
Walking into the tent, he requests Monty’s attention. “Hey Mo, What do you think about bringing someone onto the show that wasn’t in the plan? Like imagine this, a love that is blooming behind the scenes exposed… tension and ignorant reciprocation fueled on camera to catch it when it ignites…”  
  
Monty watches Finn go off into his own head, never giving eye contact, he looks into the distance in deep thought. Putting ensembles together on the hanger Monty responds, “I think if you can capture the actors feel something real and instigate that it would make for really good television. I mean anything that stems from truth will always be delivered in a way that captivates. What are you thinking of doing?”

  
Finn nods while mindlessly sifting through the outfits on the rack, “I think I have the beginnings of something brilliant looming around and _when_ this pilot is picked up by a network, hopefully not the CW, I will work on weaving it in the script. The writers are working on episode three right now so perhaps I will talk to them about it soon.”  
  
Lifting one of Alycia’s outfits in the air to inspect, hanger adorned with white shorts, denim ripped sleeve button up, and maroon bikini.  
  
“What do you think of Lexa Woods?” He asks casually.  
  
“Honey, what do you mean?” Monty turns with his full attention.  
  
Finn puts the outfit back on the rack to pick up another, “I mean what do you think of her in general, just give me what you’ve gathered. I know you judge people as a hobby in that overly active mind of yours.”  
  
“Esqueeze me?” He puts his hand over his chest delicately, “I _do not_ judge people; I _observe_ and take note for later use. They can be as they be, all I do is notice their flaws before fixing them in my mind to make them better than they are.” He snickers behind his hand that is ornamented with jewelry.

  
Hearing the conversation from across the tent, Jasper finished hair spraying his pompadour and walks over to his friends, “Don’t lie Montague, you share your thoughts like privileged candy. But I eat it up, so spill. What are we talking about?”  
  
“Lexa Woods.” The costume designer answers.  
  
“Ugh, She is gorgeous and her hair. Oh! It is stunning. I _cannot_ wait to put my fingers in it,” he gushes.  
  
“Jas-fingers, calm yourself please. I mean, you act like those things haven’t touched anything better.” Monty tussles his hair with splayed fingers looking into Jasper’s eyes with flirtation. Today his hair is wild and free from the restriction of gel, parted to the side outlining his brow with a gracious swoop.  
  
Finn laughs, “Enough finger foreplay guys!” He steps closer, “So guys…tell me about Clarke Griffin. You two are friends with her right?”  
  
Monty slowly breaks his stare from Jasper. “Ah, so you’ve seen them together?” He says putting one hand under his elbow and the other below his chin inquisitively.  
  
“Who?” the director feigns ignorance.  
  
“Lexa and Clarke” he says knowingly, flopping his hand outward from his chin.  
  
“You know… I saw them in the elevator at Trigeda one day. They were practically flush together but tried to hide once I stepped onto the elevator. I mean one must be completely inept to not see and feel the sticky tension in there!” Monty gets excited toward the end using hand gestures to portray said tension. “Lexa is definitely into Clarke. I caught her drooling after her once Clarke exited the elevator, makes me think what all goes on in that tin box!”  
  
Finn thinks to himself for a beat thinking about the potential of this development.  
  
“You know, I could get the security feed from the elevators if you want.” Jasper offered nonchalantly. “It wouldn’t be a problem.”  
  
Monty and Finn both turned toward Jasper who was too busy picking lint off his shirt.  
  
“Wehell, the _all mighty_ Jas-fingerman knows a guy huh?” Monty prods.  
  
“More like, has fingered a guy.” Finn sneers in Monty’s ear resulting in a boastful chuckle between the two.  
  
Jasper doesn’t mind though, he likes the attention. “ _If_ you must know, his name is Jason. And he loves it from behind.” With a wink he crosses his arms in finality.  
  
Monty scrunches his nose at the name, “Jason?! As in that writer no one likes, Jason? Please tell me _that_ is a one time thing.”  
  
Jasper shrugs, “It’s only happened once but the dude is in love with me and he is roommates with someone in security. So would you like me to get the security feed or not?”  
  
“Yes!” Finn speaks up excitedly. “I think this is going to be fun!” He exclaims grabbing his two best mates closely.

 

  
**12:57pm**

Octavia has finally garnered enough courage to confront Raven. Her training is done for the day and she has wanted to talk to her since earlier this morning. If they are to be working together they have to get passed the initial sting of it all and just rip the band-aid off. She knows there is still bad blood in the water but she is willing to get bit if it means they can stop wading in red. She sees Anya finally leave Raven’s side so she decides that it’s now or never. Watching the two interact from the tent was hard to bear. It’s not like she has any reason to feel this way. She doesn’t deserve Raven. No matter how much she has hardened herself, feelings are like weeds, finding ways through the cracks.  
  
The heat has picked up since this morning, coating the sand in layers of stinging warmth. She inches out of her rash guard and lays it over a chair pushing it into the sun to dry. Octavia steps a few feet into the sand only to immediately return back into the cool shade of the tent. Damn, she forgot her sandals in the car this morning. She looks up with determination and decides to try and make it into the comfort of Raven’s umbrella shade.  
  
“Ahh” she whispers under her breath as she leaps off her toes scanting toward her unassuming ex. The microscopic heated glass and grain nip at the soles of her feet.  
  
Raven, at this point, is pretty lubricated. Sharing her whiskey with Anya was a very pleasant surprise and it made the liquid run down especially fast and smooth. The girl was feeling great, not even thinking of her ex anymore. Until..  
  
“Hey…” A tentative greeting hits her ears as she feels and smells someone’s presence. Raven turns her head peering over her sunglasses. As soon as she sees who it is, two fucking feet away, her heart skips a beat and her breath reels in short hiccups. _What the fuck._ Her voice makes no effort in reciprocating.  
  
The looming girl notices Raven’s expression and understands her reaction, so she tries again,” I know it’s been a long time Raven, but I want to talk to you…” her voice is soft and kind, trying really hard not to scare the dark haired girl away again. Raven still hasn’t responded returning her gaze to face the ocean with her lips pressed flat.  
  
Octavia adjusts her stance a fraction further away from her without stepping out of the shade to give her more space. “Since we will be working together I just tho—“  
  
“How?”  
  
She is interrupted by an abrupt and curt question, one that she didn’t quite understand.  
  
“How what?” she asks softly leaning forward to hear her over the crashing waves.  
  
At that, Raven turns harshly in her chair putting them face to face,  
  
“ _How_ are you here, working on _this_ project, back in _this_ town? _How_ are you standing there like you _didn’t_ piss on Clarke and I and vanish like we meant _nothing_? There are so many fucking _How’s_ I could be asking you right now or maybe I can ask a better question, one you might want to answer before any of _this_..” She waves her hand at the air between them, “…what ever the _fuck_ cordiality you want to happen— _Why_?”  
  
She takes in a huge breath not meaning to erupt into a seething interrogation. But she feels it’s justified and not nearly as harsh as it should be. But yet, there is still time for that. She purposefully leaves her heart out of it, not wanting to give her any idea that she broke the living shit out of it. After her adrenaline slightly decreases in the pause between them, she feels herself panicking. _Fuck, where is Clarke?!_ She’s glad that her sunglasses cover most of her face because right now her eyes are turning red and wide and her face feels like its scrunching in on itself. Turning away from the standing girl once again she begins to look for her phone.  
  
Octavia is a little taken a back by her rant but not surprised. Raven has always been blunt and full of fire. This is tame by the old Raven’s standard but she knows she has so much to explain and make up for. Smelling the whiskey come off her breath O sighs before responding. She knows what ‘why’ she is asking but isn’t quite sure how to answer her, right here, right now. Or at least she thinks she knows what ‘why’ she is asking.  
  
Not wanting to screw this up she starts second-guessing what she means and doesn’t want to ask ‘ why what?’ in fear that she might completely explode at her. So she takes her time, it must be ‘why did you leave us like that’ because she asked herself that for years. But maybe she is asking ‘why am I here’, it’s a simpler question but Octavia is pretty sure it’s the former ‘why’.  
  
In the air of silence while both girls fidget at what to do next, the tension rises from a simmer to a boil. Raven is desperately searching for her phone but her brain is lubricated. Cursing under her breath she finds it wedged under her sweaty ass. _Finally!_ She unlocks it and is ready to text Clarke the most desperate 911 text of her life.  
  
“I’m sorry Raven…”  
  
She hears O deliver a shaky apology as her fingers linger over her messenger app. She tries to utilize her peripheral vision because she is frozen. _Sorry? The fuck you are._ She sees Octavia lowering herself to sit on her legs putting them at equal height.  
  
“I’ve been sorry everyday for seven years and I can’t imagine how much I hurt you… and Clarke. I know nothing I say can make up for that time or… or for the way I left you…”  
  
Raven grips her phone so tight she is sure it will pop out of her hand from the sweat surrounding it, her thumbs still hovering over the keys, she continues to listen.  
  
“… I know this isn’t an excuse but I knew that I would have never broken up with you if I didn’t leave you the way I did. You… ugh, I was stupid and afraid back then. _So_ much. You and I… what we had was something I didn’t know how to keep. “ O pauses, not sure if she is making any sense. She looks up to a heavy breathing Raven and notices she has stopped trying to mess with her phone as the screen locks to black.  
  
“I never wanted to hurt you but to me…back then, it wouldn’t have worked. Who I was, isn’t who I am today. I wish I could be who I am today and go back in time to you then but I can’t.”  
  
Her voice is quivering behind a gate of tears that she is holding back. She doesn’t want to cry but maybe she should let them break free. Raven deserves more than she could have ever given her; she deserves more than her words can give her now too. It’s unfair how things happened back then but she is thankful for this opportunity to apologize.  
  
“I hope I can one day gain enough trust back to have you in my life but I understand and accept that might not be possible. And if that day comes, I hope that you’d let me explain why I did what I did and what happened.”  
  
Raven scoffs, “I know what happened O. You cheated on me, kept me like some window whore, and left me empty and thinking I had something I never did.” She started off strong and full of venom but ended with a tear down her face. Having enough of this bullshit, Raven unlocks her phone and texts Clarke.  
  
_Shit._ Octavia curses at herself but tries to recover. “I’m so _so_ sorry Ray, I… he and I are—

  
A big shadow cascades across Raven as a deep voice belonging to the trainer boasts over her.  
  
“Hey O, some of the cast wants to see what you can do on your short board. I think one of them can actually surf! Says she can show you up. I bet her that she had no chance.”  
  
Raven looks up but the sun blocks most of his features. However, he is shirtless so it gives her something else to look at. He is really fit and could be a damn model.  
  
Octavia stiffens from his presence looking from Raven to Lincoln back to Raven, “Oh um, yeah, I’ll be out there in a minute Li—“ She stops herself from almost saying his name hoping to avoid further awkwardness. All this seems too much of a coincidence. Being on the same project years later, on this beach, together.  
  
“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll catch up!” she recovers.  
  
He smiles at her and then looks back down to Raven who is still looking up at him. At this moment, Clarke jogs into the mix and eyes Raven, Octavia, and the trainer Lincoln all together in weird silence. It doesn’t seem too bad but she rushes to rescue her best friend anyway.  
  
“Hey guys,” she says stepping in front of O creating a little barrier between the two tan girls. As she kneels down on the sand inches away from O she asks, “Raven, can I have a drink out of your cooler?” Clarke tries to give herself a reason to be here and leans half her body over Raven’s lap already digging through it.

“Yeah, go ahead” he brunette relents, leaning with her to grab herself something too.

 _“What’s going on?”_ Clarke whispers low enough so only she can hear.  
  
Octavia notices how Clarke positions herself and how close they are now— it bothers her. She isn’t surprised that they are working for the same company. But they seem closer now, almost too close. Before she can think any further on the matter, her thoughts are interrupted.  
  
“Wait!? _This_ is Raven?!”  
  
Clarke and Raven freeze at the sound of his voice. O stands up and pleads with her eyes for him to just go back down the beach but he doesn’t budge. His hands are on his hips as he eyes the girl in the chair.  
  
“ _uh what the fuck?_ ” Raven whispers to Clarke and she shrugs her shoulders. They both aren’t quite sure what’s going on.  
  
“Not now, please.” Octavia’s voice is heard next with a pleading edge.  
  
Raven lifts herself out of the cooler with one of the ‘water bottles’ in her hand. She finds narrowed dark eyes fixated on her. Lincoln is staring her down for no reason at all. What the hell has she done to _this_ guy?  
  
“Linc! Come on! We are all waiting!!” Echo calls out down the shore. They sent him to get Octavia ten minutes ago so they can all head back into the water.

  
Clarke is still resting in Raven’s lap when she feels the girl beneath her go rigid. She looks up to find her jaw clenched and her hands gripping the water bottle she pulled out with white knuckles and the crunching sound of the bottle giving way. The silence is so loud the blonde can’t stand it another minute, so she stands up and demands, “Okay! What is going on?!”  
  
She looks from Octavia to Lincoln to Raven. Her front is angled boxing Raven in behind her.  
  
A few seconds go by and not a word has been said in response.  
  
“Why is _she_ here Octavia?! Did you invite her??” Lincoln asks with pain in his voice.  
  
Okay, Clarke is officially confused but stands her protective ground in front of Raven. The hostility is coming from Lincoln so she narrows her brows toward him. _Who is Raven to him anyway?_ The blonde knew bits and pieces of Raven’s history with O but she never got details. She never knew the name of the guy that Octavia was seeing. It was always ‘him’ or ‘that asshat’. Raven never said a name so she hasn’t connected the dots yet.  
  
Raven sits still—so still that her muscles and bones begin to ache. _Linc? This is the guy she had been fucking…. Standing here, half naked… The same naked body she would ride after riding me—FUCK!_ The anger builds and builds inside of Raven; she can’t believe this is happening. Suddenly feeling way too sober for this, she opens the ‘water bottle’ and starts to chug. She gets half way through before the burn is too much to handle.  
  
“No, I didn’t Lincoln. Calm down! She works for Heda Productions and it shouldn’t matter if she’s here!” Octavia is standing now with one hand on her hip and the other extended out toward him. “This isn’t the time, the others are waiting on you! I’ll be right there!” She points her arm down the beach nearly begging him to leave.  
  
He doesn’t move his feet.  
  
Clarke is tired of the tension and she can tell Raven really doesn’t want to be in the middle of this. Her brain is racking overtime trying to think what could be going on. The thought that this could be the guy Octavia cheated on Raven with skims across her brain so fast she barely grabs onto it as a logical viability.  
  
But she does.  
  
This situation fits.  
  
She looks at Raven’s anger, to Octavia’s apparent discomfort and then to Lincoln’s expression of pain.  
  
“You have _got_ to be _fucking_ joking right now!”  
  
She wastes no time in grabbing Octavia’s wrist and yanking her away from Raven’s proximity.  
  
“You!” she growls as she pulls the girl around and shoves her toward Lincoln, “and you!” She’s nearly yelling now, face red and ready. Clarke steps forward, completely shielding Raven, who is still seated-not moving.  
  
“Get _the fuck_ on!” She throws one arm pointing down the beach as she holds her other at her side with a clinched fist. There is no way she is letting O hurt Raven again. Her anger grows from the possibility that she is already too late.  
  
O’s eyes narrow but she doesn’t say anything. She tilts her head trying to look at Raven behind Clarke but the blonde steps in front of her view, “I _said_ , go away O! She doesn’t want you here and frankly neither do I. Please leave!” Her arm is still extended but raised further up suggesting them to seriously fuck off.  
  
Octavia winces at Clarke’s anger as she stands next to Lincoln. “I’m sorry Clarke.” He puts a hand on her shoulder that she brushes off and then she turns away to leave before him. When she starts to walk down the beach Lincoln follows hesitantly.  
  
“Oh my god…” Clarke stares them down as they retreat. _This is totally messed up._ She turns to check on how Raven is doing but what she sees scares her. Raven has tears staining her cheeks and is gripping her arms around her body so tight that her fingertips dig so deep that they disappear.  
  
“Ray?” The blonde falls to her knees with her hands gripping Raven’s legs.

Raven is locked in her head, the cogs turning and churning about what just happened, connecting and realigning wires that were temporary placeholders over the years. He knew about her. _Why does he know about me? Why did he act that way?_ Raven siphons through every possible angle to the situation but she can’t form answers from it. Her brain is on overdrive and in a constant loop of mayhem. _FUCK._

  
  
“Octavia wait up!” Lincoln catches up to the steaming brunette only to be stopped dead in his tracks as she turns on a dime.  
  
“What the _hell_ Lincoln!? You have no right to act that way when we aren’t together!” Octavia’s hands flail in the air with no real intent and fall back at her sides.  
  
“I have no right?! When _she_ is the reason why _you_ couldn’t marry me?! That is bullshit Octavia. I have every right to act that way when the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with couldn’t commit because of some girl deep in her past.” Lincoln steps forward endearingly while softening his voice.  
  
“I am still in love with you Octavia...and I hate to see you hurt over someone that doesn’t love you anymore. You said she didn’t mean anything back then and I believed you. But then three years later you couldn’t be with me? You said those pictures you kept were just for memories but yet you were still holding on weren’t you?! You still are!”  
  
Octavia swallows the lump in her throat. He is still hurting and it’s her fault; She is still hurting and it’s her fault. She lowers her head and thinks back to when it all went wrong. She was so young and many would say selfish but she couldn’t deny herself Raven. Her emotions for the girl were raw, a brand new feeling she never experienced before. And experiencing something so powerful and new is scary, especially at an age where the whole world scares you. So this connection she had with this interesting and challenging soul was everything besides comforting. It was barreling, pure, strong and came so fast for her it was surprising that she didn’t step out of the way from the sheer speed in which it approached. She stood her ground and let it hit her. But in the end she limped away, didn’t she? She blames herself everyday for being that person, for being someone who hurts those she cares about. She hates herself for portraying someone who plays with other’s emotions. It’s not like she meant to, in all honesty when she was in the moment it was such a blur. It wasn’t like she blatantly cheated on Raven because what they were was barely understood. The rules were never established and their relationship was never public, not even to Clarke. But she knew she did her wrong, there is no excuse that can absolve her from the terrible way she left her. In her mind she created a maze in which she couldn’t escape. She wanted Raven to be hers, Octavia thinks that she loved her at one point but buried it along the way because she knew she didn’t deserve to love her. Linc was an easy escape; he was everything she was supposed to want. It masked everything so effortlessly for a while until the day he proposed. Suddenly forever with anyone seemed impossible, suddenly the idea of losing Raven outweighed the idea of gaining Lincoln. It was a mistake. This was a mistake. Over the next four years she hardened herself into someone who needs no one.

 

 **  
**  
Clarke is nervous seeing her best friend like this. She can’t leave to take her home and Raven is too drunk to drive. Her attempt to shake the girl from shock failed so she runs to the R &R tent to grab a few bottled juices and some snacks. She hopes this will sober her up but she doubts that she will want that now.  
  
“Ray, I got some juice and snacks…you should eat.” She soothes, kneeling back down to eye level. No response.  
  
She sighs putting her hands on her best friend’s thighs when she gets an idea. Clarke stands up and strips off her shirt and shorts. She grabs Raven’s hands lifting her from her chair and basically drags her to the ocean. The brunette barely notices that she is moving until she is abruptly thrown into the cold biting ocean.  
  
“Clarke!”  
  
The blonde follows suit and jumps in beside her with a squeal! Raven wastes no time standing up in the water with a look of betrayal. “What the hell?!”  
  
Clarke chuckles lightly while trying to stand herself, “You needed to snap out of it Ray, you weren’t responding to me. Plus, it’s a great day to be at the beach!” She tries to loosen the tension.  
  
“Fuck all” She grumbles trying to wade back to the comfort of her chair. But Clarke has a different idea; she leaps toward her and latches her arms around her waist. Raven stumbles forward from the blonde’s weight as she tries to keep from falling but the girl attached to her just goes limp!  
  
“Clarke!”  
  
Raven tries to wriggle free but Clarke’s grip is too much, making her trip in the sand into the water! The brunette’s screams are heard before being muffled by salt water. Frustrated, she starts to fight back. She isn’t in the mood for this! All she wants to do is drink and forget. But Clarke won’t let her!  
  
They wrestle in the water, occasionally getting to their knees to gasp for air.

  
  
Lexa drops down the face of a wave riding it a bit before kicking out when she hears a scream. She bails off her board only to climb on it again in order to look down the beach for the commotion. She sees Clarke and another girl wrestling each other in the water, it looks like its for fun but she can’t be sure. It’s almost time to hit the showers but she finds herself paddling toward them.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Just as she was about to head out she hears someone calling behind her. It’s Octavia. She takes a deep breath before turning her board to face the approaching girl. Maybe it was for the best, she couldn’t really approach Clarke and stop her from flirting with someone else. Interrupting them was her only option or maybe she would have just pretended to catch a wave to see what was going on.  
  
“You are really good. Been surfing long?” She asks paddling to stop right next to Lexa.  
  
“Since I was little but I haven’t been out in years. I find it something I can always come to and jump right back in like it never left me. How about you?” She counters accepting the fact that she was intercepted.  
  
“I started skateboarding a lot as a kid and found surfing once I moved closer to the water. I love everything about it. I usually surf to clear my mind and beat myself up a bit. Or rather let the ocean do it for me.” Her gaze searches the shore as she chuckles with self-deprecation. Lexa notices the fall in her features but she isn’t one to ask if they aren’t readily offering up the information.  
  
Instead of asking she offers up something of her own, “I like the uncertainty of it. It’s almost like an escape without going that far.”  
  
Octavia nods while looking off into the distance. She looks at her watch and reads 2:20pm.  
  
“Shit, I should have gotten you guys to the showers twenty minutes ago. Lets go.” She paddles to Echo and Ontari to tell them to get back to shore with Lexa following not too far behind her. They have to shower, then dress rehearsal with Monty before topping it off with Jaspers make up trials.

  
  
**2:30pm**  
  
Exhausted, Raven sits in a few feet of water with her hands digging in the sand. Clarke is seated in front of her with the waves crashing into her back. She likes the feeling of the waves rushing through her. Heavy breaths are the only things exchanged between them besides lingering glances. They communicate without having to verbalize, using micro expressions and sighs that say ‘I know’ and ‘I’m sorry’. Raven is a drama free person, usually. She would rather cut people out of her life than deal with negativity or reoccurring drama. Clarke and her have stuck by each other this long because they tend to cling to the good side of things despite the efforts of their lives battling against that. They rarely fight due to their easygoing natures. However today is not their first and it won’t be their last.  
  
“What did O say to you before it all went to hell?” Clarke shifts her legs to sit cross-legged under the shifting water. One thing is for sure; they are equally stubborn as they are equally blunt toward one another. There will be bruises tomorrow.  
  
Raven grips the sand harder beneath her before releasing it away with the retreating tide, wishing that her past was that easy to erase. She isn’t sure how to answer Clarke’s question or if she wants to at all. O was trying to apologize and Raven understands that they need to move beyond what happened in the past in order to work together now but _like hell_ she is going to make it easy on the girl. Even though she is presumably drama free, she isn’t a saint. She doesn’t put herself above ‘ an eye for an eye’. If someone were to shit on her, she sure as _shit_ would fight right back with said shit.  
  
Clarke waits patiently while Raven idles knowing that she will eventually answer even if it isn’t the answer to the question. She leans back on her hands thinking back to the event hoping that her actions were valid…Code Mufasa—yes, immediate extraction, it was what she needed; it was totally valid. Her mind wonders to the different outcomes if she had reacted differently but she’s sure that she did her best. Even up to the point of tackling Raven in the ocean to pull her out of what Clarke would describe as a manic state. She is sure Raven would have drank herself to oblivion if she hadn’t.  
  
Just as she gives herself an affirming nod, she hears Raven clear her throat to speak, “She was apologizing…saying that she if she could go back, as herself today, she would. I don’t really know Clarke.” She hits the surface of the water.  
  
“It was a bit of a blur because I couldn’t decide if I truly wanted answers or if I just wanted to yell at her.” With a deep breath she flattens her hair on her head and sifts her ponytail through her hand. “She said she wanted a chance to explain, but I mean… what is there to explain? She cheated on me, strung me along so far that I hated myself more than I hated her because I let it happen. I knew she was seeing—“ She abruptly stops because bile started to bubble in her throat. She swallows a few times before continuing, “I knew what was happening but I believed her… I thought we had something worth fighting for…” her voice cracks.  
  
“Do you know what it’s like to believe whole-heartedly in something just to be proven wrong? Like, you chose a path that exhausted all your resolve and everything you had emotionally, only to realize that it was a dead end… that it was a dead end the whole _fucking_ time… and why would I _willingly_ go back into that maze?” Raven’s chin hits her chest; she doesn’t want to feel trapped by her past. She never wanted to be close enough to feel anything like that again. The tears threaten to fall but she doesn’t let a single one-drop.  
  
Clarke watches her deflate; Raven never got to heal from the pain. The absence of closure left her heart in pieces and she is certain she never got most of them back. She relates to her but hasn’t ever been heart broken in that way. She has never been in love. But she does know loss so she offers the only thing she can.

  
“I know what it’s like to lose something that I wasn’t prepared to lose. I know what it feels like to have your heart ripped from your chest. It’s terrible and I wouldn’t want to experience it again. But it happens and the only way those tragedies can mean anything is to grow from it. Our resistance is stronger for it Raven, we are wiser than before which makes us better at protecting ourselves, and learning those lessons are a part of our character. This is your demon, this is what all that pain and suffering was for. To be able to look at it in the eye and say, ‘ I don’t fear you and you can’t hurt me anymore.’” Clarke crawls so that she is sitting shoulder to shoulder with her.  
  
Raven lifts her head up, “So _you_ can think about your dad and say that? Can _you_ say that you aren’t still suffering, trapped and controlled, having witnessed his murder?” She isn’t sure if being blunt now is the right thing, in fact after she asks she fears that it was absolutely the wrong thing. It was in a slight effort to push the spot light away from her and in some sick twisted way of defense she chose to throw Clarke’s logic right back at her. Raven squints in anticipation.  
  
“Um…” Clarke wraps her arms around her knees thinking about it. She has talked to Raven about it a few times in the last few years. It isn’t something she wants to relive but she likes to think she has forgiven herself. The question that has been unanswered but asked so many times is, how could she have known that the information she knew would lead to his end?  
  
“I can now say that it wasn’t my fault that he died when all I did back then was blame myself. I can say that I’m stronger for it and live better because of it. I’m not perfect and neither are you so the pain will always linger. It will affect us until we turn around and control it instead of letting it control us. There’s no pain that is the same but I can tell you that the hardest part of it all was facing myself…” Clarke wipes her face. “I forgave myself and maybe you should start to forgive yourself too. I know you hate yourself for being vulnerable and you shut yourself out to avoid that ‘mistake’ again. But maybe that wasn’t your mistake. I think loving someone is far from a mistake because it’s what makes life more about just surviving Ray. It’s about finding those moments that make all the pain worth while…”  
  
Her mind flashes to green eyes.

  
  
“Lexa! Get in the shower and into wardrobe ASAP! We don’t have all the daylight in the world here!” Finn beckons from within the beauty tent. He sees her emerge with Echo, Ontari and Octavia from water twenty minutes behind schedule. “Where is Costia?!” He yells inside the tent.  
  
She rolls her eyes at his eccentric nature but she hustles anyway. Speaking of someone on her ass, she wonders where Gustus has been. He usually can’t keep this far away without being seen.  
  
“Looking for me?”  
  
“Ah!” Lexa jumps at the sudden intrusion of space. _So that’s what Clarke must feel like when I do that to her…noted._ Anya snuck up on her yet again; man this girl is a stealth bomb. She reminds her so much of Gustus. Speaking of Gustus, where is he?  
  
“Why aren’t you showered yet?” She notices, taking a few steps back as she is already clad in her beach attire. “You like my swank?”  
  
Anya is wearing loose white slacks, a pale pink button up, a brown leather shoulder holster with two fake guns and a matching belt. “Does this not scream Miami Vice, I’m gonna shoot yo ass and snort your cocaine?!”  
  
Lexa laughs with her while shaking her head, “It looks nice An. You look intimidating yet approachable.” She says sarcastically batting her eyes.  
  
“Whatever, Can’t wait to see what you’re going to wear! I’ve got to head to hair and make-up. Hurry your ass up!” Anya pats her back, “Now go take a shower, you smell like seaweed! And not the good kind!”  
  
They part ways leaving Lexa to walk the rest of the way to her trailer. She sees Gustus a few feet away, less engaging than usual, not that she is complaining. Her trailer isn’t that big but it has a shower so it’s great to have around especially on days like this. She enters the only door and is surprised to find Costia sitting inside. _The one time Gustus chooses to be non-engaging… Christ._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me readers. I appreciate your patience and comments. I hope this chapter is worth the wait. I've stared at it long enough that I hate it but like any art that I do, that's natural. Hate to love to hate again. The more you comment the more I am motivated, so please do baby boos. I thought about giving up on writing fanfiction but I do like it and it's great practice. The next chapter will be the second half of the beach day going into the night. I will try to get it out within the week.


	8. Beep Beep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beach day continued!

** Ch. 8 Beep Beep  
  
  
**

**- >>-**

**2:46pm**  
  
She pauses with one foot in the door, “uh Costia, what are you doing here?”

Costia sits on her couch, clad only in the white RV robe given to the actors.  
  
“Don’t you have your own trailer… like ten feet that way?” Lexa points her thumb behind her.  
  
Costia grins at Lexas resilience toward her. It's been back and forth for years. She knows Lexa's secrets and it gives her the feeling of power. “Yeah but I lent it to Fox…so I used yours.” She says coolly. “I remember when you used to light up when I would be in your trailer...waiting"

Costia shifts her robe off her shoulder. "You couldn't wait to get me alone--  
  
“Um, okay… Now that you’ve done that, can you like…go?” Lexa interrupts, stepping aside showing her the exit.   
  
“Look Lexa,” Costia stands up to walk towards her, unfazed by her rejection.   
  
She’s still beautiful, Lexa thinks to herself, but beauty isn’t everything. This girl is one of the most manipulative beings she has ever encountered, one with limited moral standards and blinding self-servitude. So she guards herself.   
  
“ I know we aren’t on the best of terms but we _will_ be working together a lot and doing things that require us to be _more_ than friendly… this whole hating me thing isn’t going to help us. I’m sorry how things happened back then but this is a project in which we _will_ have to spend a lot of time together. Can we try to get along, at least so we aren’t stiff when production starts?” She stands a foot away from Lexa, limiting her from paying attention to anything else, effectively gaining her attention. Costia knows that in order to get Lexa’s compliance, she has to appeal to her pragmatic and professional sides. She also knows, Lexa is committed to her craft and will do what it takes in order to be better.

Lexa tries to step backwards but the guile girl has effectively put baby in a corner. Lexa’s choices are limited and being this close to a freshly showered Costia challenges her fortitude. She’s only human after all.  
  
Her mind races for a way out but Costia makes a good point, they will have to pretend to like each other on set, so being amicable will only help, right? As much as she doesn’t want to, this is part of being an actor. Even if she doesn’t like a co-star, she still has to act like she does. Otherwise, the kissing scenes will be unconvincing, which will increase the amount of takes, which in turn will cause more frustration and very chapped lips.  
  
So, might as well start practicing.  
  
With the clench of her jaw she agrees, “sure Costia, I just…” Lexa puts her hands on Costia’s shoulders to put distance between them, “ I need you to respect my space and… realize that what you did was fucked up.”  
  
Lexa glances at her smirk-rich lips before continuing, “I don’t trust you and it’ll take time but I think we can work past it...”  
  
Costia combs a hand through her wet hair. She eyes her, licks her lips and hums.

  
She feels accomplished and satisfied after Lexa’s acquiescence and leans forward despite the arms in her way, “I know that it seemed that I didn’t care about you but you were so involved with Filippo and the film that I couldn’t get your attention if I wanted to. I was really into you Lexa and… I didn’t know how to deal with rejection from something I worked really hard for…Filippo was too involved with us and it didn’t sit right with me from the beginning but I pushed through it and in the end it was all for nothing. I missed out on so many opportunities because of the time I put in to get that part.”  
  
Lexa flattens her expression in disbelief.  
  
“ Really Lex, it wasn’t you; it was business. You know how agents are… I never stopped having feelings for you… you…” She steps closer to brush her thumb over Lexa’s cheekbone. “You’re special and everyone sees it. I’m just caught up in this life just as much as you are and it hurts…”  
  
_What is she doing? This isn’t…_ Lexa stands stunned, unable to comprehend what’s happening. _  
  
_ Costia’s voice drops to a whisper, “You’re the only person that I’ve let that close to me. You know my life and how it was never mine. My parents made me into this…project and there isn’t much I have control over…”  
  
Her eyes glisten as she looks into Lexa’s eyes. She hopes for understanding; hopes for a way in.  
  
“But I felt like myself when I was with you but my reality won out in the end…” She slowly leans in to place a chaste kiss on the edge of her mouth, “I’m sorry that I hurt you Lexa.”  
  
_She’s really pulling out all the stops on this one…_ Lexa thinks this is another rouse but she tries to believe the good in all people. Even her. _  
_  
“Um…” she doesn’t know what to say to _this_ Costia. She looks open and vulnerable but how can she tell what’s real. When they dated, she thought she knew the real Costia. She thought she was the only one who got to see behind the mask she wore, but in the end she was just another fool in her game. At least that’s what she felt like. With this girl, nothing seems to be genuine and everything is a guess. That’s just not the kind of company Lexa wants to keep, she wants to surround herself with sure individuals who build her up, not break her down. And this Costia breaks people down mentally; this Costia is the most dangerous one of them all.

 

“Shh…” She stills her finger on Lexa’s lips. “You’re thinking too hard. I know I have a lot of making up to do, I just need you to let me, okay?”  
  
They’re literally inches apart, breathing each other’s air. Lexa’s heart beats marginally faster, Costia’s finger outlines her lip before she pulls away. She doesn’t like the feeling in her gut. She’s noticing that she doesn’t have the same appeal as she used to, being this close to Costia does nothing for her. She realizes this gives her more power against her and that is a huge shift in this dynamic.

  
“Now take a picture with me. The fans want one of us and we can’t disappoint.” Turning on a dime she doesn’t wait for Lexa to agree. She flips her phone around snapping a picture.  
  
_Click._  
  
Lexa can’t react fast enough to the shift in the atmosphere.  
  
“Lexa! Come on… smile at least!” She puts her back to Lexa’s front again leaning her head back before taking another picture. Lexa gives a tight-lipped smile in hopes to get her to stop.  
  
“Okay, I _really_ have to get ready now.”  
  
Costia stays close; back to her chest, while editing the photo, “Alright Cos,” Lexa pushes her toward the exit by her shoulders. “I’ll see you out there.”  
  
Costia nods more concerned with posting the photo on social media than Lexa herself. “One more picture of just you, the fans love you!” As she steps down the exit she turns to take a photo of a brooding Lexa in the doorway. “You’re so cute!” Costia exclaims before finally exiting her trailer.  
  
Lexa shakes her head. She can’t believe she was ever in love with that girl. Whatever she felt, it’s not there anymore, but Costia still gets under her skin. As she lingers at the door, a figure catches her eye. Gustus is standing tall a few feet away, “ _Now_ you stand guard? Thanks for the heads up Gus,” she remarks dryly.

He eyes her but stays stoic as ever.  
  
She sighs, finally on her own, her shoulders relax and she retreats back into her trailer. The feeling Costia leaves behind is like a looming ghost, a perpetrator of her twisted vendetta. As she gets ready to shower, a battle ensues within her. She knows she needs to put the past behind her but she wants to distance herself from something that brought her so much emotional turmoil. She wants to imagine herself as someone stronger than that and Costia makes her feel inferior to that.    
  
Speaking of perpetrator, Costia makes her way to the beauty tent as she posts a tweet.  
**  
Costia Villeneuve** @CostiaVillen My surfer @Lexawoods needs a shower before we head to the beauty tent! [Lex&Cos.IMG] @MCsquared @Jasbergers #RVBeachRehearsal #CostiaCameraRV  
  
She posts the first picture of them in the trailer. Most of her fans wanted to see them together so provides and pleases. There were many different requests but the ones that were asked the most were for her and Lexa:  
‘Can we have one of you kissing?’  
  
‘Where is Lexa?’  
  
‘What does your trailer look like?’  
  
‘Can you surf with Lexa?’  
  
‘Are you two back together?’  
  
After getting automatic hearts and retweets on her first post she sets on posting another. She has twice as many followers as Lexa because she posts more often and gets involved in the viral flow. Being the type to adhere to trends and indulge her fans, she’s able to steer their thoughts and views to her favor. Costia takes a quick winking selfie and edits a picture so that she’s on the left and Lexa’s brooding face on the right. **  
  
Costia Villeneuve**@CostiaVillen I’m off to see the wizard @Jasbergers to become the fairest one of them all. [PhotoSplit.IMG] Don’t worry @LexaWoods, you’re still the apple in my eye. #RV #RVBeachRehearsal #CostiaCameraRV #snowwhite  
  
  
-<<-

 **3:20pm**  
  
Clarke and Raven are walking back to her area on the beach when she spots Costia walking clad in only a robe from Lexa’s trailer.  
  
She averts her gaze immediately, not wanting to have that image in her mind. She tries to push the idea of them together out of her head. Mostly she tries to convince herself that it doesn’t bother her at all.

It bothers her exponentially.

She isn’t sure if it’s because it’s Costia or if it’s because the thought of Lexa and Costia makes her sad. Part of her hoped that Lexa wasn’t that easy and the other part of her holds on to the hope that she’s different. Clarke doesn’t want it to affect her but she can’t help it. These are people who pretend for a living, so what’s real and what’s not? It’s a question often asked around anyone but it’s amplified in the film industry. Manipulations are a common currency here and it’s hard to be someone important for too long before someone else is knocking you down to stand in your place. It’s Hollywood after all, LA—the ‘it’ scene, the place where dreams come to die. The pretentious bustling that hums in the air throughout the day never bothered her until now. She shouldn’t care what Lexa does, she can do whatever with whomever she wants.  
  
Her mind rationalizes the situation with factual evidence: Costia is ‘exploring her sexuality’ and is scripted to be Lexa’s love interest in the show, they have deep history, and that she, herself, doesn’t have much to offer. It’s a self-defeatist thing for her to say but she can’t help it. And that’s what angers her. She’s never had a problem with her worth, she gave herself value and that’s all she needed. This situation has already put a soap-opera drama series in her life and she can’t have that. Not with Indra’s side projects, her schedule with the show, and Raven. Her self-worth is important to her and she doesn’t want anyone else to dictate it.

 _What a fucking load of shit._  
  
Shrinking into her familiar stoic self she turns her attention to the only thing that could dull the senses.  
  
“Do you have any vodka?” the blonde plops down next to Raven who is already getting the juice Clarke procured earlier and the liquor ready—the remedy to their downtrodden day.  
  
“Already on it! Here, drink a few gulps of this” Raven hands her the pineapple juice while she does the same to the mango passion fruit. As she sets to work on her concoctions she keeps the focus on Clarke, “So I saw you and Lexa down the beach earlier…what’s going on there?”  
  
She hears the question loud and clear but her mind muffles itself to the answer.  
  
_Nothing is going on, nothing at-fucking-all.  
  
_ She doesn’t know what’s going on, her feelings are jumbled together and out of sheer stubbornness she doesn’t want to give in. Yet it’s involuntary and nothing can be more frustrating. Clarke isn’t someone that can be particularly romanced and flattery does little for her, she thinks perhaps that’s why she has never been in love. Everyone who has tried failed miserably at the enigma that is Clarke. She never complained; it’s been something that she grew used to. In fact, she grew to love life without hang-ups, crushes so to speak, or commitments. She was more focused on herself, building herself from the inside out. Maybe she can attribute her contentment to reading a lot as a kid, mostly poems and plays at one point, that’s where her passion for acting began. She finds comfort in the world she’s created in her mind and the characters she’s held dear from them. Reading now is subservient to her art. After discovering her natural ability to create something out of nothing, she can’t do anything else but create.  
  
And now she’s trying to invert that skill, trying to make nothing out of something in her heart.  
  
It’s not working out so well for her. She could lie and say it’s nothing but after telling Raven to face her fears, it would be hypocritical for her to hide from this. So she settles on something true to say.  
  
“I’m not sure…” she replies while staring off into the horizon, “I think there’s something happening and I can’t quite grasp it. I’m not even sure I want to reach out and try, either.”  
  
Raven nods patiently waiting for Clarke to continue. She pours gin into the mango and vodka into the pineapple. She notices Clarke hug her knees in contemplation and scratch her wrist a bit too harshly so she prompts her, “So then can you answer me this… do you like her?”  
  
She nudges her shoulder holding out the beverage for her to take, which she does kindly.  
  
Clarke takes a huge gulp before shrugging her shoulders, “I’m attracted to her…” she admits.  
  
“And how often can you say that about someone?” Raven asks taking a swig of her own remedy.  
  
Sometimes she hates having one person who knows her this well, retreating into herself is safe and familiar but Raven always reaches in and grabs her back out. Raven would say she’s the weirdest mix of extrovert and introvert she has ever known. Some days she’s the life of the party, instigating every outing and adventure. And some days, which is more than most, she’s a homebody, working on personal development or doing something creative. She knows that if she didn’t want to talk, Raven would respect that but it’s not something she wants to keep inside. It’s scary being the only one to face it. And so, sometimes she loves having one person who knows her this well to share her burdens with.  
  
“I can’t say I’ve felt this way before and it…it’s kind of scary?” Clarke takes another sip of her drink looking away down the beach. She feels uncomfortable because for the first time in a while she doesn’t know what she’s feeling; she has zero control. There isn’t a word for it and it’s scary but she isn’t afraid. So to explain it to anyone would just be a mixture of conundrums and contradictions.

Raven fights away the urge to warn her of these kinds of feelings, now that the residual scars within her have been torn open again. Her biased experience would most definitely say ‘love is weakness’ but she can’t bring herself to smear it based off her one experiment with it. To make an accurate assumption she needs to experience it at least twice. So instead, she offers encouragement, “I think it’s a thing worth exploring, don’t you?”  
  
Clarke shrugs her shoulders keeping her gaze pointing toward the rocks to her right. “The idea is growing on me.”  
  
_Beep Beep  
  
Beep Beep_ **  
  
** The waterproof watch that she rarely takes off beeps at her and lights up in three short pulses.  
  
“I thought that thing was broken,” Raven curiously comments.  
  
“Me too…” Clarke turns her wrist to see the ancient interface wiggle back to life, the hands move and visible gears through the tiny window jut to life. It’s half digital half analog, never seeming to have a purpose despite its aesthetic. “Curious…” The more it rotates and hums to life, the stronger the buzz in her belly gets. She remembers when her dad gave her the watch, how serious he was about keeping it safe.

 _“I want to give you this Clarke, It’s very special to me. I’ve had this since your great grandpa explored the tombs of Zidartha. It’s where he found the stone’s that make it tick, hear listen…”_  
  
_Pure elation beams out from her smile as she listens to the life inside the tiny oval, her dad has just given her his favorite thing in the whole world. The thing that he spent hours tinkering with in his study; the thing that Clarke sought out to destroy because it took so much of him away; the thing that ultimately brought them the closest they have ever been. It was a question often muttered to herself when she saw him so obsessed with it; taking gears out only to put them back in, ‘why does he give so much of his time to that watch, shouldn’t it be the one giving time to him?’ She never understood it but because of that mystery she never dared to part with it. Not only was it something that had great value to him but also it was unlike anything she’s ever seen.  
_  
“ _You’re very special too and this watch will guide you one day, you’ll just have to listen to your heart and you’ll find the way.”_

 

-$$-  
  
Approximately thirty miles out from Santa Monica beach a large fishing boat is anchored in the deep water with three men growing restless atop the shaky blue surface. The wind steadily grew through midday easily becoming the ocean’s enemy, threatening every man’s stability and patience. The smell of the sea permeates through their clothes mixing with the nervous aroma staining their pits.  
  
“Emerson! They’ve been down there too long!” He frantically says, looking over for a solution from the grungy man.  
  
“Well what do you want me to do? It’s buried deep and because it’s taking them this long, they must have found something…” He peers over the edge eager to see results.  
  
The short wiry man squirms in his expensive Visvim boat shoes, “Mr. Blake expects us to report back by 1600. It’s a seek and find, not a recovery mission!”  
  
“This is _my_ boat! Mr. Blake is not in charge here and neither are you, mate!” Emerson boasts his chest to tower over him. Emerson is a survivalist and he’s in the business of making money and taking advantage of any profitable opportunity. If something is found it isn’t uncharacteristic for Emerson to indulge in a finder’s fee. Despite getting paid, it isn’t worth as much as what they find. Emerson and his men are black market treasure hunters, amongst the grimiest blokes in the business.  
  
“If your father wasn’t who he is, I would have thrown you over board by now!” he grumbles, “and then you would be swimming with the fishes instead of riches!”  
  
Emerson grunts in delight at the thought before looking down into the water once more. “Fucking Wallaces, think they own everybody,” he mutters under his breath.  
  
Seconds later, bubbles break the surface near the bow followed by two out of breath scuba divers. One carries a full bag of finds while the other takes off his oxygen mask in anger.  
  
“Next time you want to stay down longer, make sure we have enough oxygen!” He gasps.  
  
“I think we found something,” the more competent man offers to Emerson. “It was deep and among the wreckage we found a few doubloons and but I think the rest is spread out for miles.”  
  
Once aboard, the men vibrate with excitement, finally weeks and weeks of searching might have paid off. Mr. Blake will finally pay them in full.  
  
They dump the bag out onto the table inside the cabin: trinkets, junk and then out tumbles a very peculiar cylinder, cemented over by calcium and barnacles.  
  
Emerson smiles, “the rest of the wreckage doesn’t matter…” he says mesmerized. His men smile at their new booty and get to work at divvying up. He picks the clunk of junk up and satisfyingly states, “I think we found what we’ve been looking for...”  
  
  
-$$-  
  
**3:45pm  
**  
Lexa steps into the steaming shower with little urgency. Being the lead in a show gives some leeway to indulgences and right now it’s the kind of day where it wouldn’t matter if she took the extra time. So she does, lathering up her favorite soap she stocked up from Paris. It was in one of the nicest hotel bathrooms she’s ever been in and the sample soap was the best thing she has ever smelled (until she met Clarke). She called in a few favors and had the opportunity to fill a whole suitcase full of them to take back to the States.  
  
Her mind wonders to Clarke’s smile and the way her laugh gave her satisfaction. The moment they shared was special and Lexa works on replaying it over and over in her mind as she lathers her body. She focuses on the sensation of her own touch imagining Clarke’s palm instead of her own. She hesitates to take it further but the sensation feels amazing. She dares to think of Clarke’s lips caressing where her own fingertips press against her skin. It sends a burning tickle up her center that she can’t ignore. Lexa’s hands map her body under the lubricant of soap and water. She doesn’t usually do this, but Clarke has her all mixed up and she is eager for reprieve. Her right arm crosses her body gripping her hip as her other hand skims over her exposed breast then up to her neck. She grips at it softly before she intensifies the hold into a massaging vice. She needs to relax and what better way than to release sexual frustration. Lexa’s left hand dares to fall past her pelvis and into timid territory.  
  
She thinks about touching herself, hesitating again in her trim hairs before guiding a finger in between her legs to feel if she can get anywhere. She isn’t surprised to find herself wet but what elicits a sharp inhale is how slick she actually is. Her fingers slide so smoothly around that she can’t help but play around a bit before getting to the point. The fact that she’s touching herself without wanting to stop is enough to keep her going. It feels really good. Lexa doesn’t masturbate often; it’s not as satisfying as the real thing and she’d rather wait than do it herself. Her mind works on too many tiers to focus on the task, she ends up thinking about work or what she has to do before she finishes, so she doesn’t bother. But now, her mind is calm and her focus is on Clarke. She holds onto vivid images of Clarke’s lips parting for air and her deep voice saying her name. Her fingers draw up to circle her clit in random intensity as she shifts her thoughts to Clarke’s strong thighs and curves. She wishes she could’ve seen her in her bathing suit but her imagination will have to do for now.  
  
Lexa imagines how supple and soft her breasts would be; she imagines them having the pinkest nipples perched perfectly in the center. Her other hand grows bored around her neck and soon finds purchase upon her own breast. She squeezes herself while her more adventurous fingers find new depth. Lexa revels in the feeling. She wants to release all the tension she’s been feeling and relax for once. As soon as she curls her fingers, she’s already on edge.  
  
Eager to climax she pinches her nipple and quickens her pace. She starts with a few slow-hard pumps making sure she has the right spot.

 

 _Yes.  
  
_ That spot that sends sparks to her knees. _  
  
_ Once she feels the tingles intensify she thrusts her hips to meet her hand, spreading her legs for more control. She leans her forehead against the shower wall for support and uses her other hand to rub at her clit. Her arm is burning but she replays Clarke’s words in her head to keep going, ‘I think you’re getting me all wet’. She remembers how she tasted and the way she sounds when kissed. Her forehead is the only thing holding her against the wall now; her breathing is rapid and she can feel the white-hot burn spread into each of her pores. The water has turned cold but she doesn’t feel it because the heat building inside of her floods her senses. She’s holding on to the tiny ball inside of her so tight she can feel it begin to burst. _“Clarke”_ She exhales her name turning her head to rest her cheek against the wall. It’s cool against her heated cheek.  
  
Her orgasm hits her hard and all at once, spilling over almost too much to contain. She tries to fuck herself through it but she can barely move them anymore. Her other hand moves in jagged messy circles trying to catch every bit of potential from her orgasm.

 _Oh—myg—od…_ She pants.  
  
Finally, she grows too sensitive to continue. Out of breath, she stands in post-orgasm clarity. She’s reminded of why she doesn’t do this often, she’s left feeling unclean and confused. Lexa’s relationship with sex has always been hard and she’s never felt fully satisfied. She almost regrets indulging in herself but she refocuses her mind on getting ready.

 

->>-

 **4:10pm**  
  
“I mean women are beautiful creatures and the fact that some look better with make-up should not be an issue!” Jasper argues.  
  
“Natural beauty is better looking than drawn on eyebrows and contour _so_ dark that it looks like they played a little too hard at the playground. I like a natural woman, not one that takes to face painting as a mask to feel accepted.” Harper retorts while putting foundation on Echo’s face. She finds Echo’s eyes and says; “Honey, you look good with just basic touches, don’t play into these trends that tell you what beauty is.”  
  
Jasper scoffs, “You can’t tell her what to do! Make-up is not some corporate campaign to create insecurities and sell the idea of beauty back to us Harper! Tribes and indigenous peoples have been using make-up for centuries because it’s a part of culture. It can mean many things to a person, like strength, confidence, and resilience to the damaging nature of this earth.”  
  
He whips a brush in the air, “I mean my god; we are wilting every day because we’re burning slowly from the inside. Oxygen is our enemy, not make-up! So don’t tell me that the luxury of beauty is a waste. It certainly makes this planet better looking and more interesting to look at.” Jasper has Anya in his seat looking mighty grim under his brush.  
  
His palette is limited with her because she’s a bodyguard and requires minimum work. So he puts light shades of contour under excellent cheekbones.  
  
“Damn, I need your cheekbones at home to chisel some marble because girl! These things are weapons! Mmm love it… Love you!” He says into Anya’s face as he bends down low to begin her eyeliner. “Close your eyes doll”  
  
“I agree with Harper, the whole make-up craze that has girls drawing half their face on is borderline ridiculous. I mean I met a girl at a club once and she was gorgeous! Like in the dim light, I could see that. Took her home, had a decent night, and I woke up the next day to a completely different person!” Anya says trying not to move.  
  
“So you date girls for their looks then?” Jasper jests.  
  
“No…we were fucking, not dating. But I don’t want to date chameleons either. I go in thinking I have Emilia Clark and I come out with fucking Chris Crocker. I just think it’s beautiful to highlight what you have, not hide it behind the spoon-fed idea of what you should look like.” Anya shrugs, satisfied in her answer.  
  
Harper busts out laughing, “Yes! This girl gets it!”  
  
“Hey! Not everyone is born with your symmetry,” He points to Harper with his eyeliner brush, “And not everyone is born with your unfair bone structure, pretty girl” he points the eyeliner back to Anya before continuing his work. “These ideas and products are there for those who feel insecure in their everyday. It gives others around them the idea of beauty, and it may be spoon-fed or programmed, but now that girl feels pretty and _is_ pretty. Because even though we are fed what fashion is or what beauty is, if the masses believe it then you can become it. For those who feel incapable of beauty, to them, this gives them that opportunity, you see?”  
  
At this point Monty walks over with a well-clothed Costia; her swimsuit is midnight blue with a mesh outline allowing skin to show through, covered by acid wash jean shorts, a simple white shirt and a thin short-sleeve printed shawl. She is disinterested in the current conversation as she’s deep into her phone, head pointed down with a smirk on her lips.  
  
“Jasper is right but it’s a double-edged sword, like everything else. The industry gives equal opportunity to look good by convincing everyone that they don’t look good without this or that. By doing this, they sell products that encourage assimilation thus more money. However, it benefits us all because I like pretty things. It’s easy to attack because everyone has his or her own preferences and when a trend is trending the taste is singular. But trends change constantly so it evens out.” Monty directs Costia to a chair next to Anya. “Sit here babe, and Jas will be right with you.”  
  
“I get that, I’m in the industry myself for that particular reason but I think the trend has gone too far off the scale this time. I just can’t wait for it to change.” Harper relents but stands her ground.  
  
“I’m with Harper” Anya chimes just as Jasper finishes her simple eye highlight. She opens her eyes to find Harper’s wink waiting.  
  
“Well, birds of a feather flock together,” Jasper taps the chair for her to get up, “okay, you’re done. Don’t go too far, rehearsal starts at four and Finn is already butt hurt and behind.” He winks.  
  
Anya smiles toward the girl, nods at Jasper and heads out of the tent.  
  
“Alright miss Villeneuve you’re up buttercup. I can at least have a little fun with you.” Jasper gleams.  
  
“I’m all about the fun! Just make me look irresistible.” Costia says while jumping in the still warm chair.  
  
-<<-  
  
Clarke knows she should be in the beauty tent taking photos like Finn requested but she procrastinates a little longer with her vodka. It’s helping.

“I just don’t get it.”  
  
Raven cocks her head to the side, “What?”  
  
“huh?” Clarke’s thoughts snuck out and she didn’t realize she had said anything.  
  
“What don’t you get?” Raven asks fully lubricated with liquid happiness. Clarke is not too far behind but she’s always been like a reserve, she can hold her liquor.  
  
“Oh, nothing.” Clarke gets up and wipes at her sandy butt, “I should go, gotta document them getting ready.”  
  
Clarke chugs the rest of her bottle and tosses it into Raven’s lap.  
  
Raven pouts, “Awww do you have to?”  
  
Nodding, “yeah I do… See you at the campfire?”  
  
“But that’s so far awayyy, “she whines.  
  
Finn planned a campfire after rehearsal in order for everyone to find chemistry with one another. He encourages the actors to take every opportunity to get to know each other.  
  
Clarke kisses her on the cheek, “You going to be okay until then?”  
  
“Will you come and check on me?” Raven pleas, “Like from time to time in between?”  
  
“Sure” she pinches her best friend’s chin before setting off to the beauty tent.  
  
Her walk is short but her thoughts linger on Lexa, thanks to the alcohol, they easily slip through her resilience. She worries that she drank too much but then she remembers that she doesn’t give a fuck. So she embraces her lightened spirit, swings her camera around and checks her battery. She decides to just enjoy herself, focus on her work and come what may. With half charge, she steps into the entrance of the tent to adjust her settings for indoors.  
  
“Clarke!!” She hears her name by a familiar voice.  
  
Looking up she sees Monty striding toward her and she smiles in return. “Where have you been my sun child?!” He asks, wrapping an inviting arm around her.  
  
“Enjoying the day with Raven, how’s it going in here?” She replies adoringly as he guides her further inside.

“Living the dream!” Monty delights, “See anything you like?” He gestures to the vast wardrobe in front of them, inviting her to peruse.

  
She stiffens before politely declining, “oh no, I… I’m not made for any of these.”  
  
“Nonsense!” He responds with disapproval, “You’d be gorgeous in a potato sack.”  
  
Lately, Monty has been in her life thanks to Raven and she’s grown quite fond of him. He isn’t someone you’d think to find in a lifetime, a very unique soul, and there isn’t another one like him. She smiles as he sifts through different clothes, contemplating at each possible pair. He really is a joy to be around. Very rarely will he be in a poor mood and that kind of happiness is contagious. He’s the kind of person who inspires others and a pleasure to observe.  
  
“Here” he finally satisfies on two hangers, one being black jeans and the other a vintage grey cut-off T with a random eagle in the middle. “It kind of looks like a Griffin, don’t you think?”  
  
Clarke considers the outfit, “kinda…”  
  
“Come on, change into this. It’s getting late and you’ll look good for the evening,” he insists, placing the clothes over her camera. “Oh and this,” he shoves a dingy faded-red cap into the pile. “Now go on, change” he pushes her toward the changing corner.  
  
Too lubricated to argue, she shakes her head at his direct pushiness. Her clothes are a bit damp from earlier and the sun will soon set so she hesitantly complies, inspecting each piece one by one.

->>-

  
Lexa takes a deep breath while stepping down from her trailer. She looks from side to side, mentally preparing herself for the day’s demands. She feels off kilter and finds it harder than usual to get into the mindset. She doesn’t feel like herself, almost out of body. It reminds her of her childhood. Sometimes, when she was younger, she swore she could astral project out of her body. She’d be lying in bed on the verge of sleep, eyes closed and she could feel herself leave her body. Lexa would tell her dad about her ability, how she could push her spirit beyond the physical realm and observe the world practically invisible, and he’d listen. Every time she pushed her limits, she would explain how far she got before pulling herself back. She wasn’t sure how it all worked but it felt so real. He would tell her that her mind was special and that he believed her.

The older she got the better at it she became. But when her parents disappeared she stopped completely and wouldn’t dare to try again. She had a fear that she’d get so lost that she wouldn’t find her way back on time to see her parent’s return.

She’s still waiting.

She feels that familiar feeling bubble up inside of her like something is being awakened that’s been lying dormant for years. She feels a separation inside of her, part controllable and part volatile and unpredictable.  
  
“Bout time!” Anya immerges and startles Lexa back into the current.  
  
“Fuck” Lexa mutters. All at once she comes tumbling back into herself. Her ankle bends too easily into the sand but she gives into the fall, landing on her knees.  
  
“Haha, alright Bambi calm down.” Anya chuckles reaching out a helping hand. “What has you so out of it? It took you ages, you’re the last one that has to go through hair and make-up”

“Yup” she barely acknowledges the fact that she took her time and goes for nonchalance. It doesn’t matter, just childhood nightmares she declares.  
  
Anya decides to change the subject in hopes of lightening her mood, “Well then, you ready for phase two?”  
  
“Phase two?” She asks lost before realizing what Anya means, “Oh… right.”  
  
She has more clarity since after her shower so she hesitates to follow through. It’s probably not going to happen and she shouldn’t get involved with anyone now that momentum in the project has increased.

“Um, I don’t think it’s a good idea to rush into anything. I have a show to focus on and Costia made a good point that we—

“Wait, Costia said what?” Anya interrupts. She knows all about Costia and Lexa’s relationship. And to her displeasure, Lexa has been more than noble about it.  
  
“Well if you’d let me finish!” She nudges into her, “she said that we should work on getting along because we’ll be getting more than friendly on set… I have to start preparing for that chemistry. And I can’t be distracted by someone who isn’t a part of the project, it just wouldn’t be conducive.”  
  
“Conducive?!” Anya scoffs, “ You’re telling me that you won’t go after Clarke because it isn’t conducive?”  
  
Lexa nods, “to the project…” she confirms.  
  
“Hmm.” Anya considers, “Okay and what about what’s conducive to you? Don’t you think she’s just manipulating you and that you’re missing out on a great opportunity with Clarke?”  
  
They walk side-by-side edging their way to the tent.  
  
Lexa is confused by her passion on the subject but thinks about her words, “It is conducive to me. I need to focus now and this project is important to me. I don’t want to risk my performance just because of the past. I know what I’m doing.” She doesn’t want to defend her decision because she needs to be grounded. Her focus is off, her thoughts are wild, and she needs to stick with what she knows.  
  
“But—

“I don’t expect you to understand but I need to stop getting distracted” Lexa interrupts.  
  
Anya sighs, “I understand duty, more than you know, but I thought you were tired of doing what’s expected of you. The other night you told me you don’t feel like your own person, yet you keep falling into those expectations. Costia expects you to fall into her because of the script and everyone outside of this—” she waves her hands around the beach, “—wants you two together. I get giving the people what they want but what I don’t get is giving up on the things _you_ want.”  
  
Stopping just outside of the entrance Lexa listens to Anya’s reasoning. “ I don’t know what I want Anya… I feel like I’m missing something but it’s not so black and white. I can still do what I want while doing what they all expect of me, just in my own way.”  
  
Anya grimaces, “okay, well that sounds like shit.”  
  
Lexa tilts her head at her bluntness. “Well I—  
  
“There you are! My shining star, here take a seat!” Jasper encourages half rushing because the time has gotten away from them and Finn isn’t too happy. “Right next to your arm candy” He winks.  
  
Costia sits properly with a glow of confidence. He really does a good job on hitting those natural tones while emphasizing her best features. It doesn’t affect Lexa like it used to but she can’t help but acknowledge her obvious beauty, which doesn’t help her gay heart.

“Hey babe,” Costia says with a smirk.  
  
Lexa raises her brow in acknowledgement but doesn’t say a word and takes a seat. Costia is already trying to fall into old patterns and she doesn’t want it to be the same as before.

Jasper goes to work immediately and runs his fingers through Lexa’s damp hair. She thinks about how she can nurture their on-screen chemistry without allowing much of it to exist off-screen. It’s going to be much more difficult than she previously thought.  
  
“At last! My nimble nubs have touched heaven on earth.” Jasper coos, his fingers massaging her head with finesse and elegance.  
  
Lexa leans into the feeling of another’s touch. After a long day, she’s worn out from the sun and surfing. The sun took enough energy from her that she could just fall asleep right here.

“So Lexa von Sexa, I was talking to Finn about your character and we’re thinking about taking a few inches off--  
  
“A few inches? Don’t lie to the poor girl.” At this point Monty makes his way over, grinning like a Cheshire. “Hey, before you get all made up lets get you in wardrobe” he whispers to Lexa.  
  
Jasper jerks his head up, “But! I just got—

“Now now Jas, we talked about this.” Monty sternly widens his eyes at him to shut up.  
  
Jasper slowly takes his fingers out of her hair with disdain. “Fine! But hurry up because…” he taps his watch.

“Sure sure…Now, come my darling lets get you into something nice.” Monty grabs Lexa by her shoulders and leads the way toward the racks of clothes with her name on it.  
  
“Lets see…” Monty grins into himself before grabbing a cut off T, a button down and Bermuda shorts to shove into Lexa’s unsuspecting hands. “Okay, you heard Jasper. Get changed and meet us back at the mirrors. Cheerio Dahling”

He politely shoves her to the dressing area and waits for her to take her own steps forward. _Okay…_ She lightly chuckles. Monty flutters away decoratively excited. _  
  
_ Lexa inspects her outfit as she mindlessly walks toward the curtain and sweeps it open with one fluid motion. Her head is down, the curtain is wide open, and she does not realizing that it’s already being used.  
  
“Oh,” Looking up, Lexa jumps at the sight of a pale plush stomach attached to now flailing arms. “OH! Shit! I—um!” She stutters, having been completely surprised.  
  
Clarke startles at the intrusion, “Ah! Um! Occupied!” she muffles under her half stripped shirt. She hastily tries to shove the shirt back down but unfortunately, due to her innate clumsiness; her elbows get stuck in a conundrum of hidden sockets.  
  
It takes Lexa too long to tear her eyes away because along with a soft stomach comes two plump breasts adorned with a tiny pink bow jutting out in her face. And my god, they are perfect. The heat she feels has already made it’s way from her toes into her cheeks.

Immediately energized, Lexa shakes herself out shock. “Shit fuck, Um I…” She quickly closes the curtain and turns her back as if to add even more privacy. “Sorry!” Lexa’s heart beats so fast she can barely catch up.  
  
Clarke curses under her breath hoping that it wasn’t who she thinks it was. _Oh dear baby jesus please no…_ She prays her shirt to give her a miracle but no matter how many circles she spins in, she can’t get her elbow to come through. She idles for a minute thinking through all her options and with a deep breath she accepts her mortification. She builds enough courage to mutter, “Um… can you…” She thinks about asking her to get Monty for a split second but decides to ask Lexa, “Actually can you help me?”  
  
Lexa swallows with a knitted brow, “help you?” Her mind races in all the possible ways in which Clarke would need her help. There are a few ways in which she would like to help her right now but she is fairly confident that’s not what she has in mind.  
  
Clarke huffs, “Yes, I…uh seem to be stuck…”  
  
“Um…” Lexa barely responds. Slowly, she sets her clothes down on the makeshift floor. “Do you need me to open the curtain?” she wavers.  
  
“Yes.” Clarke pinches her eyes closes under her garment wanting nothing more than for this moment to be over.  
  
Lexa takes a deep breath, “Okay… I’m going to open the curtain…” she grabs hold of the fabric and recites exactly what she’s doing, “I’m now opening the curtain…” she slides it slowly open averting her gaze as best she can.  
  
“Okay…” Clarke acknowledges. She would find her adorable if she weren’t super embarrassed and half naked!  
  
Lexa opens the curtain to reveal a willow tree of a girl; limbs slouched over and somehow tangled in a mess of cotton. The sight of her makes her giggle, it’s so cute she can hardly keep the smile off her face.  
  
“Awhaw…What happened?” She asks suppressing laughter.  
  
“Are you laughing?!” Clarke asks incredulously.  
  
Lexa straightens her face and clears her throat, “No not at all, I just…” Afraid she’s upset the girl she adjusts, “What do you need me to do?”  
  
Clarke harrumphs and tries to maneuver again without her help but it’s futile, “ I seem to have made a straight jacket out of my shirt…” Clarke pouts, “just…can you help?!” she asks with a flail of her arms.  
  
“Of course.” Lexa smiles, “On or off?”  
  
Clarke thinks about it for a second and decides it best to have it off in fear of getting stuck again, “Off.”  
  
Lexa steps forward, “Okay, here we go.” She tilts her chin upward to avoid seeing more skin than she’s supposed to and proceeds to grab hold of the fabric.  
  
“I’m going to touch you now.”

She lightly places her fingers under the folds, grazing her knuckles against insanely soft skin, and pulls up slowly. The sheer amount of pleasure she gets radiating through her fingers to her elbows and into her stomach is surprising. Lexa looks up to the ceiling desperately trying to focus on anything other than her smell and the milky skin under her knuckles. She thinks she hears Clarke’s breath hitch in sync with her own which causes her to pause in her efforts. _God._ She takes a deep calming breath before she continues.  
  
Clarke feels her tiny hairs rise in response to the backs of Lexa’s fingers gliding up her ribcage. She wishes Lexa would just rip it off like a Band-Aid because this slow pace is absolute torture. Being this close to her makes her subdued feelings intensify and she can’t stand the thought of losing control. This infuriates Clarke at the same time it turns her on, so much. It’s unmistakable, the pulsing feeling in her center, the heated burn of her ears and the shallow increase in her breath. She feels turned on and in this moment she realizes why people use that term. It feels like a switch has been flicked and all the lights and the sounds have been amplified, she feels awake. It’s such a different feeling that she fights it every step of the way, not allowing it to be understood- only to be felt. She wonders if Lexa feels a fraction of any of this. Her self-doubt and current situation suddenly puts her ego down and she convinces herself that she couldn’t and doesn’t feel the same. To her she must be another girl pining over the infamous Lexa Woods. That’s a stupid notion but she holds onto it in order to gain the self-control she wants.  
  
Eventually, Lexa manages to pull the shirt up passed her betraying elbows but gets stuck on something else, which happens to be Clarke’s chin. She looks down to see a perfect imprint of Clarke’s face in the shirt’s material, “You okay in there?”  
  
“Just peachy…” she says flatly “take your time out there...”  
  
“Maybe I’ll just leave you in there then” Lexa replies playfully and releases her grip stepping a few feet away.  
  
Clarke reacts instantly, “Wait! I’m kidding, please I have serious claustrophobia and I think— I can’t—breathe—“ her breath sounds laborious.  
  
“Oh my god!” Lexa jumps into action, “I’m so sorry, I was just joking!” she manages to scoop up the fabric and lift it off of Clarke in milliseconds.  
  
“Are you okay?!” her eyes widen with worry “here sit down, do you need anything?!” She places her hand on the blonde’s back.  
  
Clarke places her hand on her own chest and bends over trying to hold it together.  
  
“Oh god” Lexa looks on in concern, her heartbeats erratically yelling _‘Save her you fool!’_ She sees her struggling but she can’t see her face. Clarke shifts her hands to her knees, dangling her head in-between. Her eyes involuntarily hover over the expanse of her back expanding and contracting; her skin looks smooth and so _so_ soft—She lifts her hand off hot skin.

_This is not the time! What should I do?! Fuck, should I get Monty...  
  
_

Lexa looks around the curtain in hopes of catching someone’s eye while her hand hovers inches above Clarke’s back, not sure how to help. With no one around and the music in the tent too loud to yell, she crouches down to Clarke’s level, “Hey it’s okay just breathe slowly and…. Oh-my-god! You’re _laughing_!” She steps back in horror, her hand retreating to her own chest.  
  
Clarke lifts her head up and sure enough her cheeks are red, her breath is labored and she’s fucking laughing.  
  
“How dare you!” Lexa crosses her arms and sits back on her heels. “I thought you were choking or having a panic attack or something!” She feels almost betrayed—No, she thinks about it and she _does_ feel betrayed—taken advantage of—completely duped!  
  
Clarke manages to push her hair out of her face, “I’m sor—“ She can’t stop smiling, “I’m sorry… your face!” she covers her stomach with her arm to finish out a chuckle. “I couldn’t resist, you were taking your sweet ass time and then you were going to just leave me in peril!”  
  
Lexa scoffs, “ No I wasn’t…” desperately trying to hide her creeping smile. This light banter is nice and new.  
  
“haha, sure…” Clarke laughs, slowly falling into the comfort of Lexa’s company. “Well, serves you right for teasing me in the first place,” she says putting her hands on her bare hips.  
  
Lexa realizes at this exact moment that a half-naked, gloriously rosy-cheeked Clarke is toying with her. She’s standing there with that perfect pink bow, flirting with her.  
  
“Oh… well I…” A blush creeps from her neck down to her chest in immediate response. Her mind gives up full control to her beating heart and lays dormant in her cranium. Even if it had any thoughts, she wouldn’t be able to hear them over the pounding in her ears. They stand awkwardly close to one another for stretching seconds before either of them react.  
  
Clarke stiffens, all the sudden feeling particularly underdressed. She grabs the shirt off the hanger “Uh, thank you…” Clarke offers to the silence, “um...” she self-consciously covers her stomach with it and glances behind Lexa as if to see if anything is blocking her path.  
  
Lexa stands dumbfounded, watching Clarke, gorgeously bashful in front of her- half fucking naked. For a split second, the thought of being the one that gets to see her fully naked crosses her mind. It excites her to no end and then she realizes that she really wants to be that person.  
  
“ So, I uh… should finish getting dressed?” Clarke asks, she can’t deny that this feels like more than a moment but she is more than exposed right now. But something’s happening and she can’t explain it just yet. She likes it when it’s happening but afterwards she scolds herself for being so susceptible.  
  
“Oh!” Lexa steps back absolutely embarrassed in her absent mind, “yeah, sure. I’m sorry!” She stumbles back and manages to turn quickly on her heel.  
  
Clarke smirks before pulling the curtain closed, “I’ll be done in a second and then you can have it.”  
  
She stands behind the privacy of the curtain for a few seconds thinking about what just happened. A smile makes its way on both of the girls’ faces. It was awkward but the way Lexa was looking at her made her feel really nice. Clarke remembers the sand dollar and eager to know more she probes the girl for answers.  
  
“So, thank you for the sand dollar by the way…” she offers making quick work of the new shirt.  
  
Busy wringing her hands, it takes Lexa a few second to notice she’s being spoken to.  
  
“Hm? Oh yeah, I just thought… you know that you’d maybe like it or something? _It was kinda lame but whatever…_ ” She mumbles crossing her arms despondently. She wasn’t sure if it was something she should have done but at the time it seemed like a good idea.  
  
Clarke giggles quietly, “Yeah, I did…but I was wondering why you thought to give it to me?”

  
Lexa thinks about it for a second because she can’t really tell her that it was Anya’s idea, which would be totally uncool. And she wants to be smooth about it but for the life of her that mojo has been out of stock since the elevator. For the life of her she can’t think of anything clever to say…What happened to all her quick wit? – She has no fucking clue. Rubbing her neck she takes maybe too much time to respond to the question, so she just goes for truth.  
  
“I don’t know really, I just thought you’d might like something unique and beautiful because it reminded me of you.” She says shyly.

  
Clarke opens the curtain, walks out to see Lexa’s turned back. “Okay then” she says, causing Lexa to spin around. Her eyes involuntarily roam over the blonde’s body, her lips part involuntarily and her breath shallows. _Damn it._

Clarke grins with confidence and tilts her head, “ you okay there?”  
  
Lexa nods but stays silent.

“Well, it’s all yours,” she utters before strutting off, giving way more sway to her hips than necessary.  
  
Lexa is left looking after her with a clenched jaw and a dwindling ego. It’s better to stay quiet than to say something stupid but she beats herself up for not being smooth.  
  
Something about Clarke really fucks her up and she can’t explain it. Despite her need to focus on her performance, this girl is infiltrating her soul on a whole other level. There’s an excitement every time she gets near, like life has a new hope and all the days have potential. It’s inexplicable to Lexa and she thirsts for more with just the right provocation that Clarke provides.

 

-<<-  
  
Monty smirks as Clarke approaches from the back, his smile ear to ear.  
  
“What?” she asks suspiciously.  
  
“Oh nothing! You just look great, like I knew you would” he replies giving Jasper a quick glance before tossing an eye towards the back of the tent.  
  
Costia glares from Clarke to the back area and then back to Monty. “I didn’t know we had the budget to dress everyone…” She comments under her breath.  
  
No one but Jasper heard her and in response he bumps her chair with his hip, “watch it muchacha…” he mutters with a forced smile. He adores Clarke and would rather upset a celebrity than accept that kind of slander. He likes Costia but Clarke is family and he doesn’t stand for that shit.

Costia rolls her eyes and busies herself in her phone once again.  
  
Monty sits Clarke down and works a fishtail braid in her hair before putting the hat on her head to complete the trendy outfit. “There, now you’re ready to snap crackle and pop!” He snaps his fingers.  
  
She looks sexy casual, “thanks Mon Mon.”

Costia glances over her phone to glare at Clarke. She wants to say something to knock her down a peg but just as she is about to open her mouth, Finn walks in the tent with pure agitation.  
  
“What the hell is taking so long?! The set is ready, the cameras are set and we are losing sunlight! Am I the only one who cares?! You!” He points to Costia, “I need you outside and where is Lexa?!”  
  
“I’m right here” she says, walking out from changing, her old clothes in hand.  
  
“What?” he looks from Jasper to Lexa, “Why isn’t her hair and make-up done already?”  
  
“Am I—Are you— I can’t—“ His hands do a weird point and wave thing in the air.  
  
Finn pinches at his temples for a few moments and takes a deep breath, “Okay…can we get you in hair and make-up now and be outside in 20 minutes, _please_?! Oh thy kingdom come, I need a drink.” He turns on his heel and heads out to find something with a bite before he does some biting himself.  
  
Lexa purses her lips together with a shrug, “So I guess that’s your cue,” she says pointing finger guns toward Jasper.  
  
“Come sit here and we’ll get you all fixed up.” He pats the chair.  
  
“Now, where were we?” Jasper flexes his fingers and begins where he left off.  
  
“So, how much did you say you were going to cut off? Because I’ve grown quite fond of the length,” she questions.  
  
“Oh just to maybe your shoulders?” Jasper asks, lifting her hair in the air before letting it fall.  
  
“I…would rather you didn’t,” Lexa thought about it and she really doesn’t want to cut her hair at all. “In fact, can we just trim it and find an up do that works?”  
  
Jasper thinks for a second before nodding his head, “Well, it’s your hair baby boo, what you want I do for you.” He says with an Asian accent.  
  
Clarke stands back in her new outfit taking pictures of the exchange, she even got a few candid shots of Finn losing his shit. Those will be great photos to feature on the website.  
  
Costia gets up from her chair, now behind Jasper, watching him work on Lexa’s hair. “I think you’d look sexy with your hair shorter, Lex,” She adds, “Your fans agree with me.”  
  
Lexa looks at her in the mirror. With Anya’s words ringing in her ear she shrugs her shoulders.  
  
Costia steps close and places a hand on her shoulder, “You’ve had long hair since I’ve known you and it’ll grow back. I swear, I’d make it worth your while…” She squeezes her trapezius with sexual innuendo, “Plus, Finn is probably already peeved at you so I’d consider it.”  
  
At her attempt of manipulation, blue eyes peer from behind a camera interested in Lexa’s response. Clarke mentally gags at Costia for trying.  
  
With a twitch of her lip, Lexa finds a well-lit fire to fuel her words. She wants her hair long and she doesn’t care what anyone else wants, it’s her body.  
  
So with little to no filter Lexa responds, “Well _Cos_ , I don’t _do_ what everyone tells me to do and I don’t _want_ to cut my hair, so either the show will go on with my hair like it is or it won’t go at all… but I doubt a few inches will hinder production.” She snaps back with more bite than she intends. What upsets her the most is the contradiction of her actions and her words. She’s already trying to control her when they haven’t even started. Costia makes it harder to reconcile and pretend. Thinking about today, Lexa wonders what scenes they’ll practice and if this will come back to bite her in the ass.  
  
Costia scoffs, “Don’t shit on me Lexa. Maybe if you actually _take_ your medication, you would stop taking things so seriously. And maybe next time you’d think twice before talking like that to me,” she spouts and storms out of the tent in a huff mumbling idle threats under her breath.  
  
Of course, Clarke gets all this in snap shots, a few of Costia’s face when Lexa shoots her comments down, a few of Jasper and Monty’s ‘no she didn’t’ faces, and one of Lexa’s defiance after completing her rebellious response. It was all gold and as she looks through her lens, she’s reminded of her love for photography. It allows her to be present but practically unseen. She captures real moments and avoids the awkwardness in between. She lifts her camera up to her eye and captures the fall in Lexa’s face.  
  
_Click.  
  
_ And right after she captures her expression she hears Costia’s words echo in her mind. _Medication?_  
  
“Damn Lexa,” Jasper giggles offering her a high five, which she ignores sprinting out of the tent after Costia.

Clarke stares on with a curious disposition, Lexa looked shocked and concerned at what Costia had said. She can’t say that she isn’t shocked either but something inside her hates Costia even more for upsetting her and saying those things in public. She feels an unwavering feeling to run after them but she walks to the opening of the tent to see Lexa grab Costia by the shoulder and lead her off toward the beach.  
  
“Costia!”  
  
“What?!” Costia twists away from Lexa’s grip and tries to keep walking but Lexa steps in her way.

“Don’t, I can’t stand when you treat me like that!” Costia whines.  
  
“How do you know about my medication?” She asks.  
  
Costia scoffs again and turns away. Lexa hasn’t told anyone about her medication, only Titus and her doctor knows about it. So the fact that she, of all people, has this information worries her. _Who else knows?_  
  
When moments go by without a reply, Lexa changes her approach and steps in front of Costia to catch her eye. She places her hands softly on her shoulders bringing them eye-to-eye.

“Tell me Cos, how do you know about that?”  
  
Costia shrugs her shoulders, “I don’t know.”  
  
“You don’t know... _how_ do you not know, Costia? I haven’t told anyone about that.” She states increasing her grip.  
  
“I just do Lexa! Things get out, people talk…”

For a split second Lexa notices an air of panic in Costia’s voice but just as quickly as it appears it vanishes under a veil. Instead Costia steps into Lexa’s space, puts a palm on her sternum, and speaks in a careful tone. “I care about you a lot and I’m here if you need to talk about it, you know?”

-<<-  
  
“Oy, that girl Costia is a real piece. She has a serious thirst for the lime light, did you hear just a few months ago she was seen with Bellamy Blake arguing, like a lover’s quarrel they said.” Monty comments, lighting up a cigarette.

“Who said that?” Jasper turns with interest.

After taking a puff he responds, “Grounder Magazine, where else would I get the dirty gossip?”

“Don’t believe everything you read in those magazines, it’s such trash!”

Monty stomps his foot, “You’re the one who showed me that trash!”  
  
“I know…” Jasper chuckles, “ I didn’t say it wasn’t good trash.”

“Well, so you know, there were multiple pictures, _a-thank-you_ , and the article said they’ve been under wraps for like a year but no one can attest to it. It’s speculation, sure, but pictures don’t lie. Last month she was seen with that girl from that new improv theatre? So like she’s always got something new going on.”

Monty taps his cigarette, while Jasper looks on in confusion. He waves his hand in the air, “You know that theatre that’s picked up so much hype, and well there’s this lesbian who runs the whole shindig. She’s been in t.v. before…?”

“Oh, Amber Heard?”

“What the— No…first off, Amber wouldn’t be caught dead with the Villanuevas. They sided with Johnny, like hard. Second, she’s out of her league.”

“Whatever, Costia is hot as fuck, she can totally pull her off. I’ll bet you on it” Jasper dignifies.  
  
“In a vacuum tube of celebrities perhaps, but—anyway, completely off topic! What’s that girls name?! It’s totally bothering me…”

Clarke listens on as she looks through her camera at the two down the beach, wondering if they will resolve the tension between them. She takes a few photos but she stays attuned to their current conversation.

“Anna Paquin?”  
  
“Now you’re not even trying! Although they probably did have a thing when Costia guest-starred on True Blood.” Monty contemplates.  
  
“Kesha? Megan Fox? Cara Delevingne? Ellen Page?” Jasper lists counting with his fingers.  
  
“Jasper! Now you’re just listing off queer celebrities!”  
  
“I’m trying to jog your memory—Caitlyn Jenner?!”  
  
“Oh my god, you’re redic—Caitlin! That’s it!” Monty shouts excitedly.  
  
“Now _you’re_ ridiculous, I was just joking! Wouldn’t Caitlyn Jenner like men? I mean she is a complete Diva. But what do I know, I’m sure Costia and her would have some things in common…”  
  
“No, Jasper…Jesus, focus! It’s Caitlin Stasey. That girl from Australia…” Monty snaps his fingers, “She plays in that show Reign you used to watch!”  
  
Jasper looks up in thought, “that brunette who was having an affair with King Henry!?”

“Yes!”

“ohhh shit, that’s hot.” Jasper nods in approval.  
  
Clarke scoffs, that’s definitely _not_ hot and it turns out Costia gets around. It’s not like she would put it passed her but this just adds to the acute dislike she has for the bitch. She hates referring to women as such but she just doesn’t like her. Normally, she wouldn’t mind so much but the fact that she hurt Lexa and had the chance to be with her and blew it, makes her sick.

“Yeah right…” Clarke mumbles.

Monty and Jasper turn their attention to her, “What was that honey?”

->>-

Lexa steps back shaking her head, “Everything about you is contradicting. I can’t trust you; to put it plainly, I don’t know you, I never did and I’m not sure I want to. There’s no telling how you know things about me and what you plan to do with the information you have because you _always_ do what’s in your best interest.”  
  
Costia steps forward, “I won’t use this against you… I’m not _that_ heartless and I never lied about loving you.”  
  
As Lexa steps backwards, Costia steps forward creating a space-walk between them down the beach. “So you just lied about everything else then,” she rhetorically asks.  
  
“No, I didn’t. This just gets complicated,” she points between them, “we knew each other once and I think it will only help if we try to get to know each other again. I want to know you, and I like to think I still do…”  
  
Lexa stops her retreat and looks beyond Costia to see Monty, Jasper and Clarke in front of the tent looking at them. Clarke’s behind her camera per usual today, which evokes Lexa to shake her head for the fifth time in five minutes. Everyone assumes they know her and they can’t be further from the true Lexa Woods.

Eager to end this conversation she precedes, “I get it. You want to make this project easier by getting along. I won’t stop that from happening but just know it will not be as it was. Don’t assume you know what’s best for me.”

She doesn’t wait for her to reply before she walks away. Lexa leaves the situation before she says anything that could ruin their relationship completely. Ultimately, she’s always monitoring her actions for the betterment of her career. Some days she wishes she could just do and say whatever the hell she wanted without worrying about the public. She compromises in this moment and about half way down the beach she stops to turn and adds, “And you don’t know me Costia, you never have.”

 

-<<-

“Nothing” Clarke responds.

Monty steps toward her and puts a hand on her shoulder, “you don’t agree?”

He looks out at Lexa walking up from down the beach, “you don’t think she’s hot?” nodding his head forward.

Clarke looks up at him to see his line of sight and follows it.  
  
“No. I—yeah but I don’t- I don’t have an opinion on the matter.” She answers, refocusing her attention back on her camera.

“Oh but you do Clarke…” Monty slowly puts his cigarette in his mouth, “you do.”

“Bet.” Jasper concurs.

Clarke retreats back behind her camera mumbling under her breath, only to quickly drop it at Lexa’s approach.

“Everything okay?” She asks on impulse, it’s none of her business but she can’t help but have concern for the girl. The look on her face after Costia’s comment had a myriad of emotions. And before she can stop herself, she has already stepped forward and blurted out the question.  
  
Lexa nods with a tiny smile just for her and turns to Jasper without slowing her stride, “Lets get to it, shall we?”

-//-

 

**5:30pm**

The sun guides the actors into the evening, eager to visit polar lands. Finn finally gets everyone through wardrobe and has tested out storyboard shots, lighting and transition.

With only a few moments of script in between technical adjustments and setup, the actors have a lot of free time to bond. Clarke takes photos of as much interaction as she can; other than conversing with Finn about creative aspects, she keeps to herself. Being used to lenses in their faces, the actors don’t react to her so it’s been easy.  
  
“Alright! Let’s get Alycia and Siobhan out here. We’re ready for scene six!”

Clarke tenses when she hears Finn announce the next scene. She knows what scene six is. She knows that it’s something she was hoping they wouldn’t need to rehearse. Of course she was kidding herself, it’s the anchor of the show. It’s what will retain all the viewers they need in order to get picked up by a network. This is what people want to see; everyone except her.

She lets her camera dangle at her waist as she makes her way out of the crowd. The feeling in her stomach makes her upset and she can’t stay for this. Everyone is gathered to watch and stand by just in case they’re called on. She’s frustrated, looking around for an escape; she finds comfort in the sight of Raven in the distance.

Lexa makes her way on set layered with surfboards, towels and strategically placed sand. This is the scene where she finishes up her first surf lesson with Siobhan. She searches for a familiar face in the crowd and finds her making her way out of the crowd. The whole day they’ve been stealing glances and smiles. Just having Clarke around gives her confidence and the energy she needs to stay focused. When she’s around she doesn’t feel so out of body, her heart evens out and she’s calm. Watching her leave stirs the dormant anxiety in her belly. She can only guess as to what has got her retreating but she can’t help it, this is her job. Her face falls at the idea that Clarke can’t handle show business but the selfish side of her is marginally satisfied that this could bother her, which would mean she had feelings for her. Regretfully, she refocuses her attention to Costia who is now making her way to the middle of the set to join her.  
  
“Hey…” she tries gently as she approaches Lexa carefully.  
  
“Hi.” Lexa replies with reservation. She’s trying to get into it but all the power to push through all the bullshit escaped with Clarke. It’s usually easier than this, to fake it.

Their history puts a sour taste in her mouth and Lexa isn’t sure it can be washed out. Usually she has time to build a rapport with her co-stars and form a tangible bond they can use on set. But everything she tries ends up bringing back bad memories.  
  
“Lexa?” Costia steps into her space, engaging Lexa to look her in the eye.  
  
“Hm?” She looks up.  
  
“I want to try to be your friend, if you’ll let me.”  
  
Lexa sighs dropping her arms at her sides. She knows she has to put things aside but the recent spikes in her emotions have made it harder.  
  
Costia continues, “I’m sorry. I really _am_ sorry for what I did. I hurt you and I didn’t feel good about that. I never wanted to do that. I just wanted out. I…”  
  
Costia shifts on her feet, “I didn’t want to get too far and not have a way out. If that makes any sense, which I know it probably doesn’t. But I really would like us to be okay.” She dares to touch Lexa’s arm in attempt to ground her.  
  
Lexa feels combative, part of her yells from inside to protect herself. Allowing this girl anywhere near her heart again is not a good idea. But for the sake of the show, she must. She needs to pretend, more than she ever has before. She uses the paradigm notion that she can grow from this, get better as an actor, so she nods her head and pushes through her reservations.  
  
“Yeah…me too.”

 

->>-  
  
Clarke makes her way out of the set, she doesn’t care that Finn will probably jump down her throat, she needs to get out of there and the only thing she can think about is the alcohol awaiting her down the beach.  
  
She takes one final look behind her only to regret it immediately. Lexa and Costia are embracing each other and the scene hasn’t even begun. Clarke can’t turn her head fast enough to escape the display. It bothers her more than she can comprehend; her blood boils in rebellion.

  
“Fuck” she curses at the sky.

  
-<<-

Lexa decides to take a leap over her internal guardrail and hug Costia for closure.

“Thank you Lexa...” Costia whispers in Lexa’s shoulder.

Costia slightly pulls back, “So you know for this scene we have to flirt pretty hard and I was thinking about a playful banter, to where you give me a hard time at first but I warm you up to the idea of me. Like, you resist, which you’re good at, and then you open up. How does that sound?”

As crew members set the scene around them, Monty and Jasper grab and pull at their wardrobe and touch up their make-up as they talk amongst themselves. Used to the commotion around them, they hardly pay mind to the hands at work.

“I like that… Alycia has been hurt before and she isn’t open to dating anyone but you aren’t what she thinks. You take what she gives and you actually work hard and are willing to learn. So that alone gets me more interested than the blatant flirting, so how about after you get up a few times you can miss the board with one foot and fall into me?”

Monty gives Jasper a knowing look while he pins up Lexa’s shorts to expose more skin and Jasper puts foundation powder on Costia.

“Yeah! And you can put your arms around me. We both should look at each other a little embarrassed but not quick to get out of each other.”  
  
“Take it slow, I’m not that easy,” Lexa jokes.

“Well apparently you are because we kiss at the end of the scene,” Costia argues.

 

->>-

Clarke is jealous.

She hates it but she realizes that is exactly what it is. Luckily, she can’t see the scene play out from where she is. She made sure of that but she knows exactly what’s going to happen. Finn had her draw up multiple zooms and angles. They settled on a wide angle that cuts to a close up of them kissing: a new, timid, yet intense first kiss. It’s all she can think about and she can only blame her hands for drawing it in such detail for her brain to hold onto. But it won’t be their first kiss; she knows they’ve kissed before, which leads to more kissing and other stuff and she can’t stand it.

“You’re so jealous.”  
  
Clarke swallows her vodka easily, “Shut it Reyes.”

Raven laughs, “Come on, why aren’t you over there? You should be like in the front lines making Lexa look at your face while she kisses Costia.” She comments while attempting to get a glimpse on set.

“Why would I want to see that?” She responds, scrunching her face with distaste.

“Think of the bigger picture, Clarke. They _have_ to do that scene. You don’t know if Lexa wants to or not but you can make sure she sees you while doing it so she can’t possibly ignore the thought of you; imagining doing that with you.” Raven makes her point expressively with her hands.

“And isn’t Finn wondering where you are?” She pauses for her to answer.

Clarke grumbles, “I’m sure that I’m the last thing on his mind.”

The idea of them getting more involved during the show fuels the burn in her belly. Talking about it isn’t helping and she struggles to stay composed. She tells herself to calm down and that it doesn’t matter, it is what it is. She repeats existential mantras in her head in hopes of making this moment a mere hiccup in time.

“True.” Raven comments, “They are the new hottest thing, a part two in to the drama of 2014. I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse; they will spend a lot of time together during and after the show. They’ll have interviews, photo shoots, and expectations from their agents.”

Raven pretends to ignore Clarke fester as she continues because she knows exactly what she’s doing, “I read into their relationship and the year they broke up was really hard on Lexa. She was humiliated and betrayed, so I can only imagine what being fucked over like that feels like. Reportedly, she wouldn’t look at projects or she’d turn them down for months. I specifically remember reading the part when…”

“Can we talk about something else?” Clarke swallows the acid bubbling up in her throat. She knows of their breakup but never read into the details and now that she knows Lexa, more intimately, her involvement has quadrupled ten fold.

She cares.

“We don’t have to talk at all…” Raven lets all that information permeate into her over protective heart. She takes a seat next to her best friend and they both sit in silence watching the sun change colors.

 

->>-

“Alright! That’s good, now lets try it with a little more vulnerability. It seems as though you’re too familiar with each other. I want to see timid. I want to see shyness, maybe a mishap, like you aren’t quite sure where the other is going?” Finn demands from his director’s chair.

They’ve been at it for an hour, stopping in between to get a better shot or different positioning. They’re losing sunlight but it’s perfect background for the kissing scene. Finn is changing the time line in the show to correspond to this scene aligning with the sunset.

“Again in five!” He tells the girls before turning to his camera director.  
  
Most of the cast has dispersed into the R&R tent but a few have stayed to watch. The dusk gives the perfect glow to Lexa’s eyes and Costia can’t stop staring. They haven’t kissed in ages and it feels too familiar to both of them.

“So… he wants less or more? I’m not sure.” Costia nervously asks.

Lexa scratches the back of her head, “I think he wants us to not be so good at it,” she says.  
  
“That’s not easy, your lips are so soft… it’s hard to hold back,” Costia gains a wind of confidence instigated by an hour of kissing. She puts her hand against her stomach and whispers, “maybe, if we reenact our first kiss we can nail this.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lexa responds doubtfully.  
  
Costia indeed feels familiar; it’s hard to ignore the primal instinct to enjoy the feeling of being wanted. It’s difficult to control the visceral reaction to a warm body pulling you close. Lexa reacts like a human to that but she knows it isn’t what Finn is looking for. They end up falling into the same pattern as before, Costia demanding dominance in the kiss and taking what she wants. That’s how it’s always been and she hasn’t changed.

“Maybe if you’d let me lead, the kiss would be less…I don’t know, aggressive?” She offers.

Costia giggles in return, “aggressive?” Costia grabs Lexa and pulls her in flush. “This isn’t aggressive. Remember our night at the Underground night club, when I couldn’t wait—”

Lexa sardonically laughs, “Right, um okay” she manages to squirm out of Costia’s grasp. “I think that you need to take it down a few notches Cos. This is supposed to be our first kiss, so please…” She swallows, “…lets just try a different approach.”

Costia chortles but accepts the change in pace.  
  
Lexa steels herself and focuses on the scene at hand, “Now, how about if I step into you this time and I slowly lean in like this.”

Lexa positions herself a foot away and leans forward, “and then I can look at your lips, up to your eyes and then back down to your lips before doing this.” She lifts her hand up to brush the back of her fingers against her cheek, effectively moving a piece of hair out of the way. “And then, I will lean in and hesitate just for a moment to make sure it’s okay with you.”

“Uh hmm, and then?” Costia whispers, centimeters away from Lexa’s lips.

“Then you nod, just barely, and then I kiss you…” Lexa takes a deep breath and leans in to attach their lips.

Costia closes her eyes and waits.

But nothing comes.

Lexa pulls away just before contact, “I think that should do it.”

 

-<<-

“Why do I feel this way Ray?!” Clarke throws her empty bottle as far as she can but being plastic, it flutters helplessly before plopping at the edge of the tide. It catches in the wave and gets pulled in the ebb before it flows back toward them.

“Maybe because you’re littering our precious earth!” Raven gets up and retrieves the bottle before it gets sucked into the ocean.

Clarke scoffs, “Ocean Smocean, Raven! This is not funny. I don’t like people, I don’t care!” She’s convincing no one with this declaration.

Raven sniggers at her child like demeanor, “you’re drunk Clarkey poo…” She pokes her in the stomach with her toe.

“Am so not! I’m fine, just fine. I’m not anything actually,” she states matter of fact before crossing her arms. “See” she mutters, staying perfectly still like a statue.

Raven hits the bill of her hat, “Oh Stop…what’s really upsetting you, Clarke?”

“I’m…” She hesitates adjusting her hat and doesn’t see the harm in confessing, “She’s kissing her and she doesn’t deserve to do that. I don’t know what I’m feeling but she’s so wrong and what if they get back together?” Clarke huffs, “Lexa deserves better.”

Raven has known her for a long time. Long enough to know that she’s fighting against herself resiliently. She’s the type of person that will get things done, not only in her own life, but in other’s lives as well.

“So Clarkey, what are you going to do about it?” Raven stands with her hands on her hips in front of the sitting girl. “You going to pout over here and let her kiss your girl all up?”

Clarke looks up at her taunt, “She isn’t mine!” She uncrosses her arms, “she’s her own and no one elses.” She states, nodding her head, confirming that it’s the truest thing in the whole universe.

“Okay, she isn’t yours. But don’t you want her to be? You going to sit here and let Costia think she’s got her? What if this is a make or break moment Clarke? What if you go over there and show your face and that alone makes Lexa see what she’s missing. What if you go over there and ruin Costia’s fun? Or not, what if you don’t go over there and she thinks you don’t care and she ends up with Costia again… DO you want that?”  
  
Raven squats down eye level with Clarke, “You going to let her have it all Clarke? You want to sit idle your whole life and let it happen _to_ you? Or are you going to take charge and say ‘Hell no! You’re in my world now, grandma!’” Raven pumps her up by raising her voice grabbing her arms as she speaks. “This is _your_ time!--”  
  
“Yeah...” Clarke nods.  
  
“--and I’ll be damned if you let that Hollywood tiddy take her without a fight. Now, are you going to sit here and pout? Or are you going to march over there, show your fearless face, look them in the eye, and smile like you don’t care?! But we know that you really do…” Raven whispers the last part.

“Yeah!” Clarke shoots out of her seat ready to march her pretty little ass over there.

“Yes!” Raven claps.

“Okay! Here I go!” Clarke takes two steps but stops and turns around.  
  
“What do I do again?!”

Raven laughs, “I’m coming with you. But just be you Clarke; don’t run away from what’s bothering you. Lets go face it head on together, hmm?”

“Yeah…yeah okay.” Clarke turns with Raven’s arm around her and marches toward set.

 

->>-

They approach the set and the sun is touching the horizon. Most of the crowd from earlier has dwindled save from the film crew and a few cast members. Clarke takes photos in efforts to hide her emotions. Being this close makes it all that harder but with Raven close behind her she stands her ground.

“So that was better!” Finn calls out. He gets out of his chair and walks over to Costia. “Can you try a little less tongue? Have you had a first kiss before that had that much tongue?”

“Well, yeah…” Costia replies looking at Lexa.

Clarke turns on her heel, “Okay, nope. Nuh uh.” She’s ready to sprint out of there but she runs straight into Raven’s sturdy frame.

“Hold up. Stay, stay…” She tries to quietly soothe her but Clarke insists on trying to find a way around her. “Stay…shh, be strong Clarke. Clarke!” She sternly whispers.

“This is stupid!” Clarke tries to whisper back but her voice control is in direct correlation to her sobriety.

Raven looks around and luckily no one has noticed their interaction. “Just wait, it’s almost over and then you can say you did it. You don’t have to wonder about it, you’ll have done it and faced it. So just face your demons! Like you told me to do.” She turns Clarke around, “now how do you expect me to face mine, if you won’t face yours…hmm?”

She’s right and Clarke hates it. She reluctantly takes steps around a few people to get a front row seat to the fucking show. Raven is in step behind her, cutting off any possibility of escape.

 _Whoopdy-freakin-doo_ , she thinks to herself, her finger following suit with little twirls in the air. _Everyone gather around for the kiss of the century, come on down!_ Her inside commentary give her laughter that surprises even herself. Sometimes she thinks she’s the funniest. But as soon as she sees Costia put a piece of Lexa’s hair behind her most adorable little ear, Clarke’s face falls.

“ _fuck_ …” She breathes out quietly.

However, their squabble didn’t go unnoticed. Lexa saw the whole thing.

“So, Costia… can we try that one more time. Let Lexa lead and just allow it to happen.” Finn steps forward, “And Lexa, good job on your timid nature. I loved that you slowly asked for confirmation with your hesitation. Lets try it again!” He adjusts himself back into his chair.

Lexa keeps Clarke in her peripherals; she is in tuned with her arrival and can’t focus on anything else. The mere presence of Clarke has changed everything. Her nerves are bubbling up, she can’t seem to focus on the girl in front of her, and her palms are sweating. (And they never sweat)

“Action!”

Lexa shuts her eyes to change into character but as soon as she looks up she finds Clarke’s bright blue eyes like magnets. Her cheek flushes red and her lips tighten. Lexa is caught up in this moment. All the sudden it feels like her first time on stage, dramatically caring what people think. What if she messes up? She doesn’t want to look stupid in front of Clarke. But she also feels something else, a low buzz and rumble in her belly. It’s burning and increases the longer Clarke stares at her. It scares her but at the same time it’s exciting. A jumble of emotions flits through her.

Time is ticking by and she still hasn’t made a move toward Costia. Finn said action and she’s not moving. Part of her feels as though she’s doing something wrong but another part of her feels like stepping past Costia and kissing Clarke in front of everyone. She quickly wishes this was Clarke in front of her instead of Costia…and then it hits her.

_Pretend that It’s Clarke._

“Lexa!” Costia ushers.

Lexa focuses on Costia for a split second but quickly looks over her shoulder back at Clarke. Like if she looks away too long she’d lose her in the crowd. She absorbs as much of her as she can for inspiration. Costia starts to turn around, annoyed that Lexa’s attention is being taken, but before she can turn, Lexa steps into her and closes her eyes. “Shh…” She grabs a hold of her neck with her fingertips, pulling her forward. Lexa’s eyes are closed but she can still see Clarke in the backs of her eyelids. She imagines that her hand grips at her soft neck instead of Costia’s. She runs her thumb up her jaw to her chin, guiding her to tilt her head. Lexa parts her lips to breathe while using her other hand to pull at her waist, guiding her closer. She imagines Clarke’s plush hips tapping against her own and how pliant they would be. With her eyes still closed, she thinks of how she smells and how she tastes. She transports herself back to the elevator and almost moans at the memory but she keeps it contained. Lexa tries to hold onto her image but she slowly loses to the wrong senses. Costia’s perfume is drowning out her fantasy and the thought of Clarke watching is starting to stress her out. _Ugh, focus Lexa…Think of Clarke and the way her lips feel against yours, how she sounds when pushed into, and the way she sounds. Think about how you’d kiss if given another chance._

Lexa takes a deep breath before touching her nose to her cheek. She slows things down and begins to skim her nose to her cheekbone before eskimo-grazing across her nose to the other side, teasing, asking for permission, inviting the possibility of more. It flirty and innocent, just like Finn wants. But it’s also what Lexa wishes she could do to Clarke; it’s all her kindness and feelings wrapped up into an embrace and caress.

Lexa’s jaw line juts out toward the camera as she hesitates her parted lips above those in waiting.

She thinks of Clarke’s lips and suddenly opens her eyes, needing the extra push to go through with it. She finds blue boring into her and the intensity of it sends shivers down her back.

She waits for approval—but not Costia’s.

-<<-

Clarke freezes, her jaw clenches, her eyes glue, and her fists clench. Everything inside of her jolts awake. She feels her body give off a thick energy and she sends it Lexa’s way. Every time she gets close to her she feels it a little bit clearer and she comprehends it better. It’s incremental but she notices the change.

Lexa’s staring straight at her, a beautiful girl in her arms, and she’s looking at her instead. She feels as though everyone can see this moment happen but she’s too enraptured to look around and find out.

It’s just her and Lexa, whether it’s a second or an hour, it feels like forever and she wants to bask in it. She never wants this feeling to end.  
  
As the electricity intensifies and her nerves get the best of her, Clarke has an urge to look away. But she doesn’t, she pushes through the nerves and keeps eye contact. Suddenly sober, she holds on to her bones for dear life and she hopes Lexa can feel it too. She hopes that this out of body experience isn’t one-sided, she hopes Lexa understands that she can feel her in every part of her being.

Inclined to acknowledge the moment, Clarke nods her head on impulse. This must’ve been what Lexa was waiting for because as soon as she delivers, Lexa captures Costia’s lips in hers.

Clarke looks away.

This sucks, this really fucking sucks; this is a game. This feels like a sick twisted game and she’s caught right in the center of it, like a small insect in the web of lies and deceit. She hates this, she hates the way she wants Lexa. She hates the way she feels it in all her being and she hates the way she can’t control how much she loves it. She loves the chase, the nerves, the random make-out sessions, she loves it all and it drives her crazy.

The way Lexa looked at her just then was like a light getting turned on for the first time, absolutely illuminating. Clarke feels tingles run from her thighs to her head, her heart hits against her chest and in her ears.

 

_Beep Beep_

_Beep Beep  
  
_

She looks down to find her watch vibrating again, beeping at her, telling her it’s time.

But, time for what?

->>-

  
“Cut! Wow, yes and more yes. That’s what I’m looking for! That’s the kiss that will get us on the map, that’s what it’s all about people!” Finn yells with his arms spread wide, welcoming the feeling of success. He knows this will send his show up to the top.

“Everyone that’s it for the day! If I haven’t spoken to you personally, I will see you at Trigeda during the next meeting! For those who are staying for the bonfire, I ask you to respect the beach and don’t do anything stupid! Security will be here until midnight!”

Finn heads back to his trailer with his staff in tow to review the day’s work, leaving the actors behind to begin the night.

Clarke looks at her watch and to her surprise it’s almost glowing in the dark. It’s never done this before. She taps it a few times as if its malfunction can be fixed with brute force.  
  
_Strange._

“Don’t thank me all at once now.”

She feels Raven bump her from behind. She taps the surface of her watch again before responding, “Thank you for what?” She asks distractedly.

“Oh ho, no no no no… I saw you two eye-fucking just now. I _knew_ if you came over here something would happen!” Raven runs in place, “Eee! So tell me what you feel, what happened?!” She questions, wiggling her eyebrows; her plan had worked!

“Nothing happened! Raven, look at this…” She redirects.

Clarke shoves her wrist in her face, “Do you see that?”

Raven grabs Clarke’s arm and inspects the watch with as much intrigue as you’d suspect from her. She twists her arm almost too much causing some pain but Clarke hangs in there.  
  
“Did you fix it? How is it working? It doesn’t run on battery or solar, so what did you do?” She looks it over and under, completely eager to find out what changed.

Clarke pries her arm free from inspection and looks down at her watch, “I don’t know! It just started working today. I… maybe it _is_ solar powered and it finally kicked in today?”  
  
“But you’ve been out in the sun so many times wearing that thing, it doesn’t make sense and there aren’t solar capable panels on that thing. But I can’t be sure because you won’t ever let me touch it!” Raven argues.  
  
“Well…will you take a look at it when we get home?”

“Are you serious?!” Raven gawks, “I promise, I will be _so_ careful!”  
  
“yeah, be careful…” Clarke pleas, “maybe it’ll give me some answers to why my dad spent so much time with it for it to never work.”

  
“Until now!” Raven adds.

 

\-->>\--

**9:45pm**

The bon fire is thriving; the piled driftwood and wooden pallets from set burn a bright red as the flames reach for the night sky. The ambient glow makes for a perfect night on the beach. A tapped keg and a few solo cups later, everyone’s buzzing about the progress of the show and there is little to no worry in the minds of these sprightful souls. It’s the beginning of something great and they can all feel it pushing under their feet, lifting them up to new heights. The tents are still up but all equipment and crew have long gone, leaving the elite L.A. youth behind to bask in their young glory.

Clarke stands off to the side with Fox and Echo and it’s the first time all day she doesn’t have Lexa on her mind. In fact, she’s avoided Lexa since the kissing scene and it’s been surprisingly easy because she hasn’t been around. She decides to focus on having a good time. Raven stuck by her before being lured away by Anya. Clarke wasn’t sure that’s all about but she encourages it. She finds herself with good company sitting on this log, perfectly content.

“So do you think this show will get picked up by a network?” Fox asks out loud. She’s a girl Clarke knows nothing about but finds that she’s easy to like. With her caring nature, Fox makes hanging out fun and lighthearted.

“I’m pretty damn confident that we will. We have all the elements to go on for at least four seasons… I mean there is nothing out there like this show. We have young and queer characters, depth, adventure and action. What else can the people want?”  
  
“True, and the fact that Lexa and Costia are scripted to be together, it should cause a lot publicity and momentum for us.” Fox adds.

Clarke sips the last of her drink. That’s her cue to bail from this conversation and get a refill. “I need a refill, you guys want one?”  
  
They both nod their heads with a smile, “thanks Clarke!”

She smiles in return, “sure!”

Clarke lets the cup fall at her side while she walks toward the keg. She passes Nathan, John and Maya trying to outdo each other in headstands, Ontari and Costia stand together while convincing Zoe of something she doesn’t believe, and she sees Anya and Raven next to the fire talking casually. It’s a nice atmosphere out here with everyone getting on. She’s thankful that Costia is occupied by something other than Lexa’s mouth and feels a sense of relief that they aren’t off somewhere studying future scenes.

As she scans the groups, she still doesn’t spot Lexa and she begins to worry. She tries to look around without being obvious but she is nowhere to be seen. For now, Clarke reaches the keg and refills her cup along with two more. It took some balancing but she manages to get all three in her grip. Her eyes focus on not spilling the golden liquid, determined to deliver full beers to her newfound friends. Step by step she walks carefully, treading bumpy sand.  
  
“Need some help?”  
  
Clarke looks up and finds Octavia’s eager eyes.  
  
“Oh um…I think I got it…” but as she declares it, her foot digs too deep in the sand causing her to stumble forward. But Octavia’s quick reflexes catch the beer in peril, saving the sand from stupor.

“Got it!” Octavia says.

Clarke delivers a tight-lipped response, “ thanks.”

“Do you think we can talk?” she asks, nerves clear in her voice.

They walk side by side beyond the bon fire before Clarke responds, luckily Raven hadn’t noticed. Clarke slows her walk as they take solace beyond the ridge of the glow.  
  
“I don’t know what we’d say, we aren’t friends. You’ve made that clear,” she injects.

Clarke is decently lubricated but it doesn’t blur her judgment, it just obliterates her filter.

Octavia knew this was coming. Not only did she hurt Raven, she hurt Clarke too.

“I know and I want to say that I’m sorry.” Octavia turns to face her, dipping her head, “I hate that I hurt you and I want you to know that it wasn’t easy. I didn’t mean to grow so attached to you guys.”  
  
Clarke has an urge to scoff and cross her arms but she’s burdened by beer, so she takes a sip of one instead.

“What did you expect? That we wouldn’t grow attached? I thought we were friends, but I guess the whole time you were trying not to be.”

Octavia glances in the distance toward Raven, she sees her laugh and the thought that she’s happy now makes her smile. She turns and walks further out of sight. Clarke rolls her eyes and follows.

“Say what you need to say O...” Clarke presses.  
  
“Ok...Well I know it doesn’t make sense but I care so much about you both that I did what I thought was best. I can only make amends now but trust me that I hated myself as much as you both probably do. My family—

“So tell me this,” Clarke interrupts in desperate need for some clarity, “you were with Lincoln the whole time you were with Raven. How can that be what’s best? How can you play with Raven’s heart like that, leave and come to me and say that you thought it was for the best.” Clarke can’t hold back her protective nature; it comes out all at once. “You weren’t there to pick up the pieces that you left behind. I was there every night holding together what you broke. She’s better off without you and the fact that you came back here trying to make yourself feel better is just so shitty. You aren’t apologizing to us because you’re sorry; you’re trying to heal your pain by getting to say your peace—

“No, Clarke… you don’t understand—

“Then what?” Clarke looks over to Echo and Fox, wishing she could just escape and be care free with them again. She brings herself to look at Octavia and waits for her to finish so she can go.  
  
“I wasn’t with him until the end, I mean…” She takes a deep breath, Clarke is intimidating as hell.   
  
“… I wasn’t with him the whole time. I loved her. I did...There’s so much more I want to tell you but it’s not—I can’t…”

Clarke widens her eyes and shakes her head; “If you can’t say it then what do you want from me? My forgiveness?”

Octavia looks at her with lost eyes. Maybe that is what she’s seeking but mostly she wants to explain. She struggles with doing what’s right but she can’t bring herself to say anything worthwhile. Clarkes bull-headed demeanor is throwing her off and she can't get a good word to form.  
  
“Well you can’t have it because I don’t forgive you and I doubt Raven will either. So stop trying to apologize and be professional for once. I’ve got to go.” Clarke steps around the defeated girl and utters, “Goodbye O.”  
  
Clarke walks out of the uncomfortable situation and into the light of the fire; warmth greets her cheeks with welcome and she can breathe freely again. Octavia extends the beer in her hands to give it back but it’s offered to a retreating back.  
  
She leaves Octavia in the dark of the night and feels a faint tinge of guilt but she can’t forgive Octavia. At least not right now, something is off about her story and she is determined to find out before Raven gets involved. She knows it's only a matter of time before Octavia tries to contact Raven again.  
  
Clarke approaches her new found friends and gets shaken out of her fog.

“There you are!” Echo exclaims.  
  
“Yeah, sorry I got—

“I was talking to the beer,” Echo laughs grabbing a cup out of her hand.

“Hey!” Clarke smiles.  
  
“Where’s mine?” Fox asks eyeing the only beer left.  
  
“Oh…” Clarke looks behind her, “I… here.” She hands Fox the last beer and decides she doesn’t need one.  
  
“Thanks Clarke!”  
  
Clarke smiles with a nod, “of course.” Knowing that this night just officially took a turn. 

“So we were talking about significant others in the industry and how they rarely last. That’s why cast members tend to date one another, the schedule is the same and we spend so much time together it’s sort of inevitable…” Echo takes a sip of her beer, “So you have one?” She asks, eager for some juicy story.  
  
Clarke sighs because she can’t catch a break. “Um, no I don’t have one of those. Do you?” She asks, desperate to get away from the cliche of needing to be with someone.

“On my last project I dated my assistant but it ended poorly” Fox comments.  
  
“She was nice! I liked her…” Echo chimes.  
  
“You had a crush on her! Of course you thought she was nice.”  
  
“Yeah but I was seeing Ben at the time so it’s not like it was a thing. I just liked her smile, it was nice.”  
  
“She was nice.” Fox retorts jestely.   
  
“You’re nice!”

“Nice!”

They tease each other back and forth. Clarke listens in but she can’t relate. She hasn’t been in the industry that long and frankly she isn’t attracted to a lot of people, so she has little to no experience with relationships. Even when she found herself interested she rarely did anything about it, hence the choice of the single life.  
  
“How long have you two known each other?” She interrupts their flirtatious slap fight to ask. It was obvious they’ve known each other for a while and it was also obvious they harbored feelings for one another.  
  
“What would you say Echo? Like four years?” Fox asks, drinking the rest of her beer.  
  
“Damn girl! You in a hurry? You have a hump where you store that liquid?” Echo laughs searching for said hump. Turning her around she slaps her ass, “there it is!”  
  
“AH! You bitch!” Fox retaliates by snatching Echo’s beer out of her hand and chugging that one too.  
  
“Hey! That was mine!”  
  
“Well I’ve got to feed this _hump_ of mine” Fox slaps her own ass tauntingly. They fall into each other in laughter.  
  
It’s adorable to witness, they’re so light hearted and cute, Clarke admires them but can’t help feel left out. She doesn’t have a drink nor does she have someone to distract her in this moment, her mind drifts to Lexa. Their questions leave her feeling like she’s been missing out; perhaps she’s closed herself off too much. The fact that she’s been focused on herself doesn’t evoke regret but the fact that she’s limited her friendships and overall relationships because of fear puts a little doubt in her heart. Raven’s been telling her to let people in and the more she observes and thinks about it, the more she’s willing to listen.

Unsure of what to do with herself, Clarke looks around and takes a deep breath. She remembers to enjoy the moment and relish inside of it. She’s lucky to be alive at this time, to enjoy a campfire on a beach, with actors and free thinkers. It’s a beautiful scene to behold yet she’s missing something. She leaves Echo and Fox’s company unnoticed and decides to take a stroll in the moonlit tide. In contrast to the day, the breeze whistles cold tunes against her skin. It’s not unlike her to seek solitude; she loves to reflect and be influenced by her own heartbeat. Welcoming the cool water on her feet and the blue-lit background of the sky, Clarke makes her way North up shore.

->>-

**11:00pm  
**

After an hour, Clarke finds herself knocking on a metal door. She isn’t sure what she’s doing but she can’t help it, she feels compelled. She waits a few minutes and thinks that maybe she didn’t knock hard enough. Turning around, she can see the bon fire, crackling thin but still giving life and she wonders if she should knock again. Clarke found herself wandering over here when her feet had their fill of the sea. She focuses on breathing and looks up at the stars. They shine bright despite the city behind her and in their resilience she finds hers. Turning back around, she knocks with more gusto, and again she receives no answer.

She retreats down the steps with a mixture of relief and disappointment tucked away in her gut.

“ _Oh well_ …” she sighs; it’s not like she knew what she’d say anyway. She just knows she doesn’t like missing her and she wants to know where the hell she is. With heavy feet she accepts how tonight has gone and decides to head home.

“Looking for someone?”  
  
The smile is instantaneous on Clarke's face. That voice.   
  
It's like she came out of thin air when she wished it most. Clarke gathers herself before allowing herself to turn around and when she does, all her regret flies out of the window along with her breath. Lexa is leaning off the roof of her trailer, her hair adorably tied up into a bun with eyes shining in tandem with the stars. For some reason the sight of her makes Clarke giggle. 

“Oh just a star…” she answers with mirth. She looks up into the sky with her belly full of buzzing feathers and decides she loves this feeling.  
  
Lexa follows the blonde’s gaze and grins into the moon.  
  
“Well, you’ve come to the right place” she says before retreating out of sight.  
  
Clarke inches forward not keen on losing sight of her. For a moment she thinks she’s intruding but she won’t give up that easily, not yet.   
  
She walks to the side of the trailer looking for a way to catch her star.   
  
“Coming up?” Lexa calls out.  
  
The blonde looks up but doesn’t see her, “ _hell yeah I’m coming up”_ she says under her breath. Determined to join her she finds a ladder attached to the back and makes her way up. Nerves wrack her core but she damps it down with mustered up confidence. Clarke psyches herself up by whispering reassuring outcomes. _It’s just a trailer and you’re climbing onto it to meet a girl, no big deal. Just to look at the stars and talk. And if you don’t know what to say then that’s okay, worst comes to worst you come across mysterious. Yeah, it’s just a roof with Lexa. It’ll be fine._

Her head peers over the edge of the roof, finally reaching the top, to find Lexa laying on her back with her hands behind her head. She doesn’t move when Clarke makes her way next to her and she doesn’t turn her head when Clarke trips over herself. She’s secretly grateful that Lexa didn’t look over because if she had, she’s sure the sand would have made a great bed for her head. It gives her enough time to compose herself and get situated. Clarke thinks maybe she gave her that courtesy and likes her even more for it.  
  
She manages to mirror the silent girl and lie on her back, giving her a panoramic view of the constellated sky. It’s peaceful and suddenly she feels completely aligned with the world. Clarke releases a contented breath and puts her hands on her stomach enjoying the silence that falls upon them.

Lexa turns her head after many moments of enjoying each other’s company. She takes in the pallor of Clarke’s skin under the mirror of the moon. It always seems to give glow to the most beautiful qualities of things and with Clarke her whole body shines bright.

“So did you find it?” she asks quietly.

Clarke closes her eyes for a quick second, saying her goodbye to the world she created in the silence, and turns to say hello to the universe staring back at her. She takes Lexa’s face in, noticing every curve and jut of bone, committing her to memory. Lexa waits patiently looking back at her with the same curiosity.

“Find what?” Clarke finally asks.  
  
“The star you were looking for” Lexa shifts her body to better pay attention to her potential answer.  
  
Clarke tracks her eyes over Lexa’s nose and her lips and states, “I think so.” She keeps Lexa’s gaze for a beat before turning her head back toward the vastness.

Lexa keeps on staring, completely unaware of the dopey smile she wears. This girl is in constant bloom and she can’t wait to see what the seasons bring. The air around them is light tonight, cool in contrast from their previous encounters. Lexa figures that perhaps the dust has settled and they can finally get a gauge of one another. Reaching into her pocket she fishes out a flask and silently she stretches it out in offering.  
  
Clarke turns at the crisp sensation of steel against her arm. The gleam in Lexa’s eye makes her take it gladly, like a peace offering between them; it’d be rude if she refused. Sitting up, she uncaps the mystery liquid and tilts it back without question. She thinks it can’t be that bad, whatever it is, but oh, was she completely wrong. It burns bridges and cities all down her throat like Nagasaki.

She chokes as soon as she takes an overzealous swig, it’s completely unbecoming and she begs it to stop. Her throat burns and her eyes begin to water. She mentally reaches into the sky for god to pull her out of her body because this is the end. The only good that comes of this coughing episode is the quickness in which Lexa responds. She scoots to Clarke’s side in seconds, rubs her back, and asks if she’s all right.

“Clarke, are you all right?”

Clarke isn’t sure why she took such a big gulp; she questions her decision-making and curses under her breath as she coughs her throat raw.  
  
Swallowing the last of the burn, she manages to get a hold of herself after an eternity in embarrassment.  
  
“I’m sorry, I should have warned you…” Lexa amusingly soothes.  
  
Clarke nods clearing her throat. “No, it’s okay. I was, uh, surprised is all,” her raspy voice barely emits. The taste in her mouth is unlike anything she’s ever tasted; it smells familiar but slightly grotesque in odor. Her confusion is evident; mentally she nods a tribute to petrol, for it tastes better than this shit.

“Peat whiskey” Lexa offers, patting her back a few more times. They sit side-by-side and knee-to-knee with Clarke’s shoulder slotted under Lexa's outstretched arm. With a bright moon and shining stars, Lexa hopes it lasts longer than a moment because this feels perfect. She snickers inside at Clarke’s reaction; she knew it would be distinct because the taste and smell isn’t for everyone but she wanted to offer something special to Clarke and this is all she had.   
  
After working with Costia on set, she felt like getting away to think and this was the furthest she could go without leaving the set all together. Part of her hoped Clarke would find her, it was a long shot but she couldn’t help fantasize about it and the fact that it happened and is happening, she’s celebrating inside. 

Clarke unconsciously leans into Lexa’s body heat, it’s getting colder now and the comfort of her proximity is welcome. Still clearing her throat, she closes the lid to the flask and asks, “What’s peat whiskey?”  
  
She looks up at Lexa and finds her looking right back. It’s too close and too intense to handle for Clarke, so she quickly looks back at the flask, nervously twisting it in her hands. They’re so close she’s on sensory overload. She can feel the heat coming from her body, she can smell the ocean mixed with Lexa’s distinct scent, she can see the flecks of green in her eye and the freckle on her lip she never noticed before. She takes comfort under the bill of her hat hoping to stay sane. She desperately wants to look at her because she can’t get enough when she does. God, she’s so nervous, she grips at the flask in desperation.

Green-eyes crinkle at her observations, seeing her this close is so pure. Completely enamored, she could watch Clarke all night but she interrupts her own reverie by softly responding, “it’s basically a smoke-rich whiskey made with decayed earth.”  
  
It’s not everyone’s taste; in fact, it took her awhile to stomach the stuff. She admires Clarke’s reaction, it’s endearing and she can’t help but adore her. Her nerves take the back seat and her eagerness to know the girl drives her. She stays calm and absorbs everything she can.  
  
She has her this close; she can’t screw up now.

In response, Clarke swallows, “decay… Like dead things?!” She looks at the flask in bewilderment and then to Lexa. “Why?”

Lexa laughs, “Why what?”

Clarke smiles at the sound, “why would you choose to drink this?” She inspects the steel keeper of dead things and notices three letters etched on the side, A.K.V.  
  
Clarke runs her fingers over them with intrigue, she knows that this must be a keepsake. She has one herself and this thing looks old. Moments of silence go by before anyone speaks. Clarke is afraid to ask what the letters mean and she isn’t one to pry in people’s lives unless they offer. As she runs her fingers over the flask, she’s reminded of her father. She has a feeling this is important to Lexa and it’s something special that she’s sharing with her. Smiling, she builds the courage to look up and appreciate this moment.  
  
Lexa catches her blue eyes to settle into each other’s view, inches apart, and close in comfort. She snugs her arm around Clarke’s shoulder to elicite validation and she gets a reassuring smile in return. They give each other time to travel each other’s faces, finding crinkles from smiles and freckles from the sun.  
  
When Lexa can't help but stare at her lips, afraid she'll mess this up by kissing her, she makes herself speak, “This particular whiskey is…was my dad’s and it’s made with five-thousand-year-old vegetation from a Scottish bog his grandfather used to live by.”  
  
“It’s basically the earth’s ashes…” Clarke chimes.

Lexa nods, “I have the last barrel and it’s been aging for over 50 years now.”  
  
“I just drank history,” blue eyes beam.

Lexa chuckles from her gut at the sheer wonder of Clarke and the way she thinks. What a little nugget Clarke is, an underappreciated gem amongst thieves. Lexa looks at her and shakes her head.  
  
_Unbelievably adorable.  
  
_ She can’t believe this girl exists. Everything about her leaves her wanting.  
  
“You’re so cute” she finally declares.

Clarke swallows the rest of her laugh. The way Lexa’s looking at her is yeilding. Clarke watches her eyes dart to her lips and she can't help but to swallow again. The air is suddenly sucked out of the few inches left infront of them. They freeze in time and inch forward slowly within an eternity. Clarke’s heart is the only indicator that this is real because it’s as if the breeze doesn’t blow and the moon is shining only for them, everything else doesn’t exist. Her breathing becomes heavy and she isn’t sure how she will survive this. With history on her lips she hopes this war doesn’t break her and she hopes for peace. She wants to let Lexa in, she’s tired of fighting it, and she wants to kiss her.  
  
So she leans in further, she’s so close she can feel the breath from her nose on her cheek.

And just as her eyes flicker closed--

_Beep Beep  
  
Beep Beep_

  
Her watch glows a bright turquoise between them releasing an electric hum up Clarke’s arm. She immediately tries to shut it off and regain the moment. “Fuck” she curses at its timing! She jerks her head down and pushes every buttons he can to shut it up.  
  
“Shit!” Lexa exclaims in pain at nearly the exact same time. The bill of Clarke’s hat clips Lexa’s lip leaving her wounded, pride and all. She retracts her arm and flinches away in shock. This is not the feeling she expected to feel. Lexa sucks her lip into her mouth tasting iron.  
  
“Oh my gosh, I… oh _man_ , are you okay?!” Clarke lifts her hands up to Lexa’s cheeks in dire concern. “I didn’t mean to, aw let me see…” She encourages Lexa to release her lip for her to inspect. The look of cute betrayal masks Lexa’s face and Clarke swipes at her brow to release it. “Let me look…” Clarke whispers.  
  
Lexa licks her lips before letting Clarke have her way, “It’s okay; I’m fine.” This is not exactly how she hoped things would go. She struggles to find a way to salvage the moment they lost.  
  
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Clarke softly says with closer inspection.  
  
Lexa lets her look because this allows her to do some inspecting of her own. Concerned-Clarke does weird things to her insides and she can’t help but want to hug her for it. She barely knows her yet she cares so much. Throughout her life, she’s never been tended to in this way. It was always through professional Latex and reassuring words, where she received all of her comfort. Even in past relationships she wouldn’t allow tenderness like this. She never felt comfortable with it and frankly she didn’t need it. But now, looking into blue eyes, she’d take herself to court on that old notion.

It’s everything she didn’t know she needed.  
  
After being inspected by the best doctor she’s ever known Lexa removes Clarke’s hat, “here, how about we do this…” she turns it backwards and securely replaces it, “…there.”  
  
With her hands still around Lexa’s face and her forearms resting on her shoulders, Clarke gleams. Her thumbs rub comforting stripes up Lexa’s cheeks before she remembers her duty to assess the damage. If it was bleeding it’s only pink now but Clarke feels like it needs reassurance. She stares at Lexa’s lip for a good minute before she looks back into those eyes patiently looking back.  
  
In a low whisper she says, “And…how about we do this…” Clarke leans in, closes her eyes and delivers the gentlest kiss she can muster onto Lexa’s bottom lip—right on the mark.  
  
Staying close, she releases it and whispers, “better?”  
  
Lexa’s eyes are closed and she doesn’t speak. Clarke drags a thumb over her swollen lip and waits. She isn’t in a hurry because she has everything she wants in the palms of her hands. Finally, Lexa shakes her head back and forth pointing at her top lip, “it hurts here too…”

Clarke doesn’t have enough cheek to hold the smile she makes. “Oh yeah?” she chuckles.  
  
Lexa’s eyes are still closed and Clarke can’t help but take advantage of it to explore her face again. She has wonderfully high cheekbones that slope into a lovable nose and her lips, despite Clarke’s efforts, are perfect.  
  
Lexa crinkles her nose at having to wait and Clarke again at her antics. She lowers one hand to Lexa’s neck while the other drops to her leg and leans in to deliver another delicate kiss but Lexa reacts this time and captures her by surprise. Clarke gasps as she feels Lexa attach to her lips.

 _  
Woah._  
  
It’s unlike their other kisses; full of heat and unknown passion, this kiss is soft and sweet, full of tenderness and wonder. She feels Lexa’s arms wrap around her to pull her close, and she gives in, gently pulling at her neck in return. They give in to each other, allowing their hands to clench and unclench at the sheer power of it all. They allow the walls they’ve been building for years slowly fall, allowing a warm growth to spread through their veins. It’s similar to the feeling of home but it’s not so rudimentary. The feeling runs deeper within them, empowering their choices of each other. It reassures them with every breath they exchange, every move they make toward one another.  
  
Clarke makes a soft noise as the angle shifts, receiving their first mutual series of kisses. This fills her with so much joy she smiles in the middle of it all. It only lasts a second because Lexa nudges her with her nose and whines like a child at the lack of cooperation. Clarke giggles and happily returns to the task at hand.

 

The night is no longer cold as they drop their guard and wordlessly vow to protect each other. It’s unspoken but they deliver reassurances in every touch. While lost in a dream of hope and new beginnings, the bright glowing watch goes unnoticed. However, it, even in its inanimateness, knows not to beep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience people! I'm back at it and found motivation once again. The more you comment, the more I know what you want. I tend to lose myself in moments but I promise to finish this story. I've been working hard on the outline and have great adventure lined up for you and our girls.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave Kudos and comments if you enjoyed, this is my second fanfic. Check out The Flight to the Flame (part 1 of Kerosene) for a work more dived into. I'll continue this if it's liked.
> 
> tumblr: ayokidd


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